


a wild storm

by BlackSunday



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Attempted Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Kidnapping, Murder, Sexual Content, Time Travel, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSunday/pseuds/BlackSunday
Summary: Emma finds herself in a strange and yet familiar world. A world that she otherwise only viewed from her couch. And she quickly realizes that it was not a crazy dream that brought her to 1899.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. Where am I?

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [a wild storm](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/551632) by BlackSunday. 



> Hello there! I already posted this story on a German fan fiction site, but I wanted to translate it into English. I hope my school English and Google translator didn't make the story a complete mess. I apologize for any grammatical errors and look forward to improvements. Have fun reading!

# a wild storm

I was awakened by a sharp headache. Was I passed out? I opened my eyes, but immediately closed them again when the bright sunshine dazzled me. Wait a minute, sunshine? I was just sitting on my couch, drinking cola and holding the controller of my PS4 in my hands to play Red Dead Redemption 2. Outside, a crazy and damn wild storm had raged. I sat up, which made my headache even worse. I was dizzy, everything moved around me. I blinked a few times before I could see my surroundings sharply and no longer blurry.  
Where the hell was I and how did I get here? Or was I asleep? The environment seemed so familiar to me as if I had seen this green meadow before. Far, untouched land stretched out before me. Only a narrow footpath testified to civilization. I had to dream, there was no other way to explain it. I must have fallen asleep while playing - quite unimaginable, but it seemed to be the only explanation. I groaned, got up and brushed the dust off my dark blue sweatpants. Then I straightened my black sweater, which was just too warm for me. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and I pushed up my sleeves. I've never had such a strange dream. Everything felt so damn real.  
I looked around. Green meadows, mountains in the distance, trees, bushes and birds singing. I looked at the path and decided to go to follow him wherever. What else was there for me? My body didn't seem to want to wake up. I pulled my mobile phone out of my pocket and tapped the display. Of course (how could it be otherwise) I had absolutely no reception, so I put it back into my pocket. I looked around further and saw a street sign. Well, it wasn't a real sign like you saw on the streets today. It was more of a wooden signpost with two signs, as you might know from hiking trails. One of the signs pointed to the left, the other to the right. I went to the signpost and looked at the weathered writing. I could no longer decipher the name on the left, I could still clearly read “Valentine” on the right. Valentine? Okay, I had to dream. My subconscious mind built everything I knew from the game into my dream.  
Suddenly I heard noises. It sounded like a horse was approaching me. I instinctively turned in the direction from which I suspected the animal. And there was actually a horse with a man on it. The sun was so dazzling that I had to shield my eyes with one hand to see more. He rode along the path trotting straight towards me. Dust whirled up behind them and his clothes were like those of a wild west cowboy. He looked exactly like the characters from the game. A nervous laugh escaped my mouth. What was going on here?  
The man came closer and slowed down. The horse stopped next to me. The man looked down at me, the cramp of his cowboy hat casting a shadow over his face. "Arthur Morgan?" His name shot over my lips before he could say anything. He frowned.  
"How do you know my name, girl?" Although I was no longer a girl, I still liked to sit in front of my PS4 at the weekend. And at the moment I was playing the second round of RDR2. I just had to relive the story, the characters had grown too dear to me, and this time I wanted to do some things differently than the first time.  
"Isn't that obvious?" I asked. Did Dream-Arthur realize he was in a game?  
"We never met, how do you know me?" Well, he probably didn't realize it. The horse snorted suddenly and I winced. I had never been so close to such an animal in my life. The size alone intimidated me - on the screen they were really much smaller.  
"Your wanted poster," I lied to bow to the apparent logic of my dream. Arthur didn't know what was going on here. He eyed me rather skeptically and especially my way of dressing seemed to confuse him. No wonder - I did not fit the 1899 picture. The women usually wore long dresses, women in pants were rare. In addition, there were no sweatpants with the Adidas logo.  
"Where are you from?"  
"Strawberry. I... I got lost.” Strawberry was the first place I could think of. "Can you help me?"  
"I am not sure yet."  
"How so? You're actually..." I stopped the sentence and paused when I saw his eyebrows go up a little. "Um, I mean, you don't look like you want to kill me."  
"How do you really know me?" he asked, swinging elegantly out of the leather saddle. I took a step back, he was taller than me and clearly more athletic.  
"I told you!"  
"I do not believe you. What's your name?"  
"Emma Hunter."  
"So, Miss Hunter?" He was impatient. And I did not miss the fact that he looked around carefully, as if he were looking for possible accomplices on my part. Who did he have in mind? The O'Driscolls maybe? His hand rested on the holster of his revolver, this gesture alone unsettled me.  
"I... I can't explain it to you." I really couldn't. Half of the terms wouldn't tell him anything, if not all.  
"Answer me." He took a big step towards me. Damn he was tall...  
I raised both hands soothingly. "I can't explain it to you." I repeated. Arthur was standing right in front of me, smelling slightly of cigarettes and hard work. His eyes were demanding.  
"Okay." He reached for my right upper arm. "You will tell me sooner or later." He pulled me closer to himself and towards the horse. I tried in vain to free myself from his grip. The pain felt as real as if he really held me and I wasn't just dreaming. At least I still hoped so. What else should this be?  
"I better not do that..." I knew a lot more than he probably liked.  
"Then you will accompany me. Maybe you will change your mind then.” He pulled me even closer to the horse, which was already staring at me so suspiciously. I tugged on my arm, but he was stronger than me.  
"Let me go!" It hurt that he treated me so roughly. After all we’ve been through. When he tried to grab me by the waist to hoist me onto his horse, I used this moment to push him hard. Not enough to make him fall over, but to make him retreat. And I ran back across the meadow.  
"Stop girl!" He called, but I kept going. You couldn't die in a dream, right? You woke up beforehand? Suddenly something whizzed through the air and wrapped itself tightly around my torso, so that my arms were fixed to my sides. A jolt went through me and I was knocked backwards on the ground. I hit the ground with the back of my head. He had caught me with his lasso, like I had done a thousand times in the game.  
I tried to pull my arms out from under the rope, but he pulled on it and the lasso was suddenly rock solid. "Stop fighting!" He tried to tie my wrists and ankles, turning me on my stomach. "I don't wanna knock you out." I paused. Being hit was not on my to-do list. Arthur tied me up and then lifted me off the floor. He threw me over his shoulder, I groaned.  
"Where are you taking me?" But I didn't get an answer. He carried me to his horse in silence and unloaded me on the animal. The animal's body was warm and it took a step back when it noticed me. Arthur calmed and stroked it before climbing up himself.  
"Go." The animal obeyed and started to move. But Arthur seemed to notice something else. He reached into his saddlebag without stopping the horse and pulled out a brown canvas sack, which he quickly pulled over my head. Certainly so that I could not see where the journey was going.  
"Hey!" Dust rose in my nose and I sneezed.  
"You don't need to know where we’re is going." The horse became faster and I already knew where we were heading - Horseshoe Overlook. The Van der Linde Gang currently lived there. I wanted to tell him that I knew, but decided against it. He already distrusted me, maybe even thought I was a danger. If he now found out that I already knew the exact location of the camp, his mistrust would only increase.

#### Arthur

Who was this strange woman who dangled behind me and said my name every second? I had kept silent so as not to allow myself to be wrapped up by my “freight”. Probably also because I wasn't sure yet whether it was such a smart idea to bring her to the camp. But something was wrong and could not say why. She knew me, but I was sure that I had never met her in my life. Since my flight from Blackwater I hadn't noticed any wanted poster with my face on it and so far we all behaved as civilized as possible. "Arthur?" Again. "Hey, if you haven't just fallen off your horse, answer me!" She was persistent.  
"Shut your mouth."  
"The shackles hurt!"  
I laughed lightly. "It shouldn't be a leisurely ride, Miss."  
"Can you please take it off?"  
"As long as I don't know who you really are, you will be tied up. Now be quiet before I’m adding a gag."  
"I will hardly knock you out!" She tugged on her bonds, fidgeted and my horse became restless. It danced a few steps to the side. Without further ado I gave the woman a pat on the back of her thighs.  
"Hey, stop it!"  
"Then loosen them up," she said.  
"Woman, can you please shut your damn mouth?" I snorted in annoyance, she did too. Even my horse looked annoyed by the extra weight on his back.  
"This is a terrible dream," I heard her murmur softly and frowned thoughtfully. Did she really think she was dreaming? I was inclined to ask, but decided against it. I wanted to enjoy the calm and not incite her to keep talking. We took a hidden path that went off the trail. Bill stood a little away from the camp, rifle in hand, and looked vigilantly in all directions. Of course he discovered us, I greeted him.  
"Who are you bringing with you?" He asked as I slowly rode past him.  
"I do not know yet. Where's Dutch? "  
"In his tent." I rode to the tether posts for the horses, dismounted and then took care of the fair maiden. I heaved her off the animal's back, threw her over my shoulder and headed in Dutch’ direction. Miss Grimshaw met me halfway.  
"Mr. Morgan, since when do we kidnap people? "  
"Every now and then, Miss Grimshaw."  
"Another mouth we have to stuff? In our current situation..."  
"Arthur, what's going on?" Dutch had interrupted Miss Grimshaw. She stopped with her arms crossed. "Everything's fine, Miss Grimshaw. I'll take care of this.” She nodded, still didn't look enthusiastic and went on her way. "Who is this?"  
"I found her a few miles from here. Something's wrong.” I let Emma slip off my shoulder and she landed on the floor. Only now did I release her from the sack over her head. "She knew my name. I don't know if she knows more things that might even be dangerous to us. She seemed to be on the way to Valentine. "  
"I don't know anything!" I was inclined to pat her on the back of the head, but controlled myself.  
"Oh you do" I said.  
"Where’s she come from?" Dutch asked.  
"She says from Strawberry. But I doubt it.” She didn't look like she was from somewhere around here. Her clothes were strange and the way she spoke ... that didn't suit Valentine or Strawberry neither.  
"Is she armed?"  
"I do not think so."  
"You didn't search her?"  
With a sigh I went up to Emma and dragged her to her feet. First I carefully felt her upper body and finally her lower body. I finally pulled a black thing out of her left pocket. The front felt smooth, almost like ice, and the back was slightly textured, but the material or use of this thing was unknown to me. I held the thin thing in my hands and handed it to Dutch, who had already reached out. "What's that?" I asked her.  
"A mobile phone." A what?  
"A what?" Dutch spoke my thoughts.  
"Free me and I'll show you." Dutch nodded to me and I cut the rope on her wrists so she could use her arms. She rubbed her wrists - maybe I had pulled the rope too tight after all? Dutch handed her the weird thing she called a mobile phone and she tapped the smooth ice surface on the front. The part lit up in her hand, showing numbers and a photo.  
"What the ...?" I said. She kept tapping on it with her thin fingers. New pictures appeared and I could also recognize writing. I had never seen anything like it and neiher does Dutch.  
“This is a device that you can use to get in touch with others. You can write to them or call them.” She explained slowly, which didn't help me either. "Assuming you have reception." She indicated a small sign that was in the top right corner. "You can also play games with it, listen to music or watch a film." As in the theater, only in color, strange characters moved across the screen. I didn't really believe in witchcraft, but this really came close to my understanding of magic.  
"What?" Dutch and I asked almost simultaneously. Dutch stared at the thing which played some music. Well, if you could call it that.  
"You have no idea what I'm talking about." The pictures disappeared, the thing went completely black again. Dutch took it from her before she could put it back in her pocket and continued to examine it. Yes, he even smelled it briefly. Did it smell? He tapped it with his fingers, as she had. Once it lit up and he almost dropped it, but then the light went out again.  
"Where are you from?" I asked.  
"I... I'm from Toronto. Canada." Canada? First Strawberry and now she was talking about Canada? "I have no idea how I ended up here."  
"And how do you know Arthur?"  
"I .. I don't just know him." Only now did Dutch gradually lose interest in the thing. I couldn't blame him because her words seemed like a hidden threat to me.  
"Have you been in Blackwater?"  
"You mean if I was there? No. I only saw your wanted posters.” But then she must have been in Blackwater or the surrounding area. We had never been to Canada; we had never been so far north. So why should our wanted posters from Blackwater hang there? It didn't make any sense. "Are you going to kill me now?" She was afraid.  
"Arthur." Dutch gestured and took me aside. "I want to know where she saw our wanted posters. Something is wrong with the story she wants to tell us here.” I nodded in confirmation and turned back to pull her up. "Get up!" When she was standing I also cut the rope on her ankles. She obeyed obediently.  
"What's happening now?"  
"You stay until we know what we're going to do with you." Dutch replied.

#### Emma

Arthur took me to a remote tree near Pearson's wagon to tie me up with a rope. I leaned against the tree as he walked around me and tied me to it. I could feel the bark on my back and when he pulled the rope tight I was short of breath. "You can't do that!"  
"This is only for your and our best," he said.  
"What should I do to you? Do you think I'll run all the way to Valentine without a horse to betray you? "  
"That would be a possibility." He had tied a knot and appeared to be satisfied with his work. I had almost no freedom of movement at all.  
"Arthur, I'm not a danger. You have to believe me!” At least he!  
"Why should I believe you, girl?" I almost said because we had known each other for so long. But that was nonsense, he didn't know me. He had never seen or spoken to me before. For him, I was a completely stranger, who behaved strangely, dressed and carried strange objects.  
"I could be of use! I can help you! "  
"How?" He looked directly at me. "You can't even help yourself right now. What could you offer us?"  
"Arthur, please. I …" God, how could I make him understand? I felt like I was explaining life to a kindergarten child. He didn't know any video games, not even a television, because none of these existed yet. And so he just waved and moved away from me.  
I stayed alone for several hours and got no attention. At some point the sun went down and it got cooler. I watched the camp; food was prepared, wood chopped, horses looked after. Everyone had a job to do. Only one was watching me and that was Dutch. He was sitting in front of his tent and yet he never came over. Nobody came. Did they wanted to starve me here? Or was that a way to loosen my tongue?  
I tried again and again to loosen my ties. I tried to move, struggled against the rope, wondering whether to draw attention to myself. Every now and then I called a gang member's name when someone was nearby. But I only got strange looks. Even Dutch didn't move. What shit was this? Why didn't I wake up? I felt like crying. I was tired, thirsty, hungry and scared. In the distance I saw Dutch talking to Miss Grimshaw.  
They spoke for a while and finally he pointed in my direction. What now? Did the older woman complain about the uninvited guest at the camp? After all, there was still one more mouth to stuff, but maybe she complained that nobody cared. Or how they handled me so far? I knew the gang wasn't in an easy position. The didn’t have much money or enough food. Miss Grimshaw finally nodded and then moved away from Dutch. "Miss Hunter." She stopped in front of me. "Food is ready. For you too.” She loosened the knot and finally was able to open it. "And even though there is hardly enough for all of us." she added before I was released. However, I made no move to flee because I was hungry. My stomach growled in agreement.  
"Hands forward." I obeyed and she tied my wrists again, but far less tightly than Arthur. Miss Grimshaw held my arm. "Mr. Morgan will keep an eye on you just in case.” With her free hand, she made a waving gesture with which I couldn't do anything. In which case? That I killed someone? She led me to the campfire, where she handed me a bowl of stew.  
"Thank you."  
Miss Grimshaw didn't answer me. She only led me to Arthur, who was sitting a little apart from the fire. "Mr. Morgan. You will certainly like to take care of the lady.” Arthur nodded silently and pointed to a tree trunk next to him.  
I followed his hint and sat with the bowl in both hands. How should I eat the stew with my tied hands? Drink that stuff? This would make the spoon in the bowl useless. "Can you take off the rope?" I asked, raising my arms to demonstrate my current situation. "I can't eat like that."  
"One wrong move and you land completely tied up on the ground." He sounded harsh, looked at me briefly before he released me. How many times had I been tied up today? Clearly too often for my taste. My wrists burned, as did my thighs from standing on the tree for a long time. Sitting was a satisfaction.  
"Thank you."  
"No problem as long as you don't make it one." Was that a smile on his face?  
I took the spoon out of the bowl and tried Pearson's famous stew, which was really good. Only now did I really realize my hunger. The tension in my stomach eased with each spoon. I had to brake to avoid swallowing everything down immediately. "Can I get my phone, the black thing, back?"  
"No. Dutch enjoyes it."  
"Great. Can he operate it at all? "  
"Hm?"  
"What is he doing with it?"  
Arthur shrugged. "I don't know." I said nothing, he kept looking at me. "You don't know how you ended up here?" He asked.  
"No." I shook my head. "And even if I did, you wouldn't believe me."  
"Try."  
"I can't explain it to you. I don't understand it myself. I was just sitting on my couch in front of the television and now…” I looked up at him and could clearly see the question marks on his face. I took a deep breath. Patience, I had to be patient. "You see? You do not understand."  
"Television?"  
"It's like..." A cinema at home? I tried to figure out how to put it. “They are film projectors. You can watch movies on this machine. You have it at home. "  
"Is there such a thing in Canada?" Not yet, I wanted to say, instead I just nodded. He was about to formulate a new question when Lenny rode into the camp. Arthur caught the eye, as did the others. Finally he got up and called Charles over to him. "You stay here," he said to me. "Charles, keep an eye on her." Charles nodded. I already knew why Lenny was so upset. I already knew what had happened before he could say it out loud. Micah was in prison in Strawberry and should be hanged. Dutch gave instructions to Arthur - I knew which ones; he was supposed to free Micah - and Arthur initially resisted. But in the end he nodded grumpily and instructed Lenny to get back on his horse. I could see the scene in my mind's eye; Arthur and Lenny in the saloon in Valentine, drunk, Arthur looking for Lenny and lots of drinks.  
"What?" Charles asked, whom I had completely forgotten. He was standing next to me.  
"Hm?"  
"What's wrong?"  
"Nothing at all." I looked away and quickly went back to the stew.

#### ***

After dinner, Charles led me to a tent with only a few boxes in it. Nobody seemed to use it to sleep, it was more like a storage tent, stuffed with things. Hopefully no explosives, I thought when Charles led me inside. "Your quarters for the night." He grabbed a blanket that was on one of the boxes and pressed it into my hand. After all, no more shackles. "There will always be someone in front of your tent, if you are considering to escape." He turned to the exit of the tent, but paused again. "I'm sorry that the circumstances are no different for you." He went out.  
I spread the blanket on the floor and when Charles closed the tent behind him it was dark. It took a while before my eyes got used to the dark. I sat cross-legged on the dusty blanket.  
What now? I pushed my sleeves up and was annoyed that I wasn't wearing a top underneath. It was cool outside, but in the tent was the warmth of the day; on top of that it was stuffy. Will someone check on me again today? Will someone stand guard in front of my tent all night? I tugged on the collar of my sweater. What was going on here? I still didn't understand. I was almost certain that I was not sleeping. But what did that mean? Did I have a psychosis? Was I dead or am I really here in this world? It didn't make any sense and I felt the urge to call my mother. Something I always did when I had no way out. She always had such good advice. But would she have one for this situation? Could anyone help me at all? Was I caught here? I absolutely needed my mobile phone; I pushed the thought that it was probably useless far away. I needed a task, a goal, just something I could cling to so I wouldn't go mad.  
I lay on my side and suddenly everything hurt. Everything was heavy and stiff. A deep sob escaped me. I missed my apartment, which I usually didn’t because something broke all the time. It was wrong that I was here. I didn't belong here. Outside I heard people talking, laughing and every now and then a horse. I pulled my knees almost up to my chin and closed my eyes. The day should finally end and I wanted to wake up on my couch...


	2. Chapter 2 -It's a hanging matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos!

#### Horseshoe Overlook  
Emma

  
I was woken up by birds singing. My bones hurt. How long had I slept? Without my phone, I felt completely helpless - it not only acted as a gateway to the outside world. I had no sense of time anymore. It felt like I had been in this tent for years. I guessed it had to be morning, maybe even late in the morning. The sun shone into the tent through a crack at the entrance and it got significantly warmer. I slowly straightened up and stretched. My back cracked as I stretched up. Outside I could hear the voices of the other camp residents, including Arthur. He was back from his little booze tour with Lenny.  
I crawled closer to the entrance on all fours and peered out through the narrow crack. I couldn't see if anyone was really on guard or if I had been left alone. Perhaps the guard was just a few steps away to give me the security of being unobserved. What would happen if I opened the tent? Would someone point a gun at me? I shivered. Guns were scary to me in real life. I had never held one myself. In games, the characters did that for me.  
I carefully pushed my head out of the tent and looked around. There was really no one stationed at my sleeping place. Everyone went about their daily work or slept. Nobody stared in my direction or took any notice of me. I pushed the sleeves of my sweater over my elbows and ventured further out of the tent. Arthur's voice came from the direction of Pearson's wagon. It sounded like he was talking to Dutch. Maybe it was about the upcoming Micah bailout. Dutch and Molly's tent was empty. I couldn't see Molly anywhere. Pearson was standing with Miss Grimshaw in front of his lunch pot. I didn't see the other women. Hosea and Javier were far away, I couldn't discover more. Someone was snoring somewhere behind my tent.  
Still crawling on all fours, I was sitting in the shade. Nobody called my name, wrestled me to the ground or threatened me with a gun. My eyes went back to Dutch and Molly’s tent. If he didn't have my mobile phone with him, it would be there. I listened to the sounds around me. Nobody approached me or the tent in front of which I crouched. Should I run away? Or looking for my mobile phone? What was the chance that I would be caught trying? The sun was shining from the sky, there was no way to hide. I would be like a deer in an open field. I took a deep breath. Maybe I was fast enough. All I had to do was run, search for my phone and then run away. Did I have a choice? If they had wanted to kill me, it would’ve happened long ago. I hoped.  
I ventured further, out of the shadow of the camp tent. Nobody seemed to notice me. Everyone I could see was busy. My heart pounded fast in my chest. Now or never, I said to myself and jumped up. I sprinted hectically to Dutch's tent. Still nobody called my name. Once on the other side, I crouched next to his bed, making myself as small as possible. And what now? Where should I look? There were not many options here. There was a chest next to the bed, which I opened quietly - nothing. I looked into a box - nothing. I even looked under his mattress - still nothing. I carefully lowered the mattress again.  
"Get Micah back," I could hear Dutch say. Arthur replied that Micah would surely not do that for him. I internally agreed with Arthur. Micah was a piece of shit. It was strange to know the future of the people here, some of whom I loved very much. Maybe I could help? I shook my head because first I had to help myself. I looked at two large barrels that stood behind the tent. I knew from gaming experience that the cash-box was there. Maybe my phone was in there? I would be visible for everyone again. I turned around. I could just run back into my tent or otherwise. But then I discovered John Marston. He was standing right in front of my tent, with his back to me. Please don't look, I pleaded silently. But if he turned around now he could see me crouched next to Dutch’s bed. So the cash-box?  
I went out to the other side, got up from my crouching position and was now right in front of the cash-box. It was a strange feeling standing in front of it myself. I gently opened the cash-box, which contained bundles of money, jewelry, valuable pocket watches and actually my phone. I took it immediately and hid it back in my pocket. I also took some money; if I was stuck in this nightmare for a long time, I needed it.  
Arthur and Dutch had to be to my right. I could still hear them talking. I couldn't see anyone to my left. Going straight wasn't an option unless I wanted to jump off the slope and break my leg. "I'm leaving," I whispered softly to myself. I crept slowly a few steps to the left, keeping a close eye on my surroundings.  
"Dutch!", Marston. "She's gone!" He had looked into my tent. That was the starting signal that I needed.I ran. I still wasn't sure if this was a huge mistake or not. I ran through the camp, visible to everyone and had to jump over Uncle, who was snoring between two tents. The trees came closer. I just had to get between them, hide or run until I couldn't anymore. I stumbled and I banged head-on into the damp grass.  
"Not again!" Arthur swore loudly as I scrambled to my feet. He followed me as I ran on. The sleeves of my sweater slid down to my wrists. My breath was uneven, hectic. My legs kept carrying me, even though I was already feeling the beginning of a calf cramp. Arthur was hot on my heels when I finally reached the tree line. A loud bang cut the air. Startled, I raised my arms to protect my head. "That was a warning shot!" Arthur had shot into a tree next to me. A hole in the bark served as a warning to stop. "I don't want to shoot you!" I pulled myself out of my stiffness, which had even forced me to stop, and ran on. "Girl, no!" A second shot. I felt the heat when the bullet barely missed my head. Did he aim badly or was it a second warning shot? No matter. I stopped abruptly, hands raised.  
"Let me go!" I called back. Arthur came up to me with his gun still in his hand.  
"Where do you wanna go, huh? To the sheriff in Valentine?” He had reached me and grabbed my forearm. He pulled me harshly. I lost my balance and fell to the ground. Arthur grabbed my wrist while he was still aiming his revolver at me with his other hand. "Come on now."  
"Take the gun down!"  
"Get up." He pulled me to my feet. "What were you thinking?"  
"Arthur?!" Hosea ran towards us, half out of breath. "What are you doing?" His hand rested on the holster of his gun, ready to pull it. Charles followed.  
"Our guest wanted to run away," Arthur replied. "I got her!" He then called a little louder, probably aimed at the others in the camp.  
"I just don't wanna sit locked in a tent at 80 degrees!" I said.  
"Sure, of course…"  
"You wanted to shoot her?" Asked Hosea  
"God... what? No!”He shook his head in shock.  
"You almost shot me!"  
"If I really wanted to you'd be dead now."  
Hosea frowned. "I wouldn't like being locked up either. What did she do to us? Except we all find her a little scary, Arthur.”  
"And what should I do about it?" He asked Hosea directly.  
"Dutch is listening to you!" I interfered. Dutch respected Arthur and also some of his views.  
"Sure, I'm persuading him so that you can run away again and I probably have to save your Canadian ass." Arthur pulled me back to the camp.  
Hosea walked to our left, Charles on the other side. "You can try it. I don’t like to see women being held as prisoners." Thank you, Hosea! He was on my side and it felt good. I liked him.  
"Yes exactly!" I said.  
"Quiet now!" Arthur hissed at me and then looked at Hosea.  
“If I were kidnapped and treated like a prisoner, I would do everything I could to be free. Would it really be different for you? I hardly think that she will kill us in our sleep. “, said Charles suddenly, who had been walking very quietly beside us. I heard Arthur sigh.  
"Okay... okay." He changed the direction and headed for Dutch, who was already waiting beside the open cash-box. He had the same look my father often gave me as a child when I did something stupid…

#### Dutch

  
This strange woman had stolen from us. I didn't even resent her seeing and taking her chance; she had a strong will to survive. I could also overlook the fact that she had taken her thing back, after all, it was hers. But she had stolen money. Money that we urgently needed to move forward. It was crucial for us to survive in these tough times. She came up to me at Arthur's side and didn't even look at me because she knew exactly what she had done. Emma reminded me of a child caught doing something bad. She was so young. I closed the cash-box more tightly than was actually necessary and then held out my open hand to her. "Come on, girl. Give us back what you stole.” I looked down at her and expected opposition. Empty phrases, lies or a pleading. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the money clip she had taken from us. Without a word, she gave it to me. "We treat you like a guest and that’s the way you thank us?"  
"Like a guest?" There was the defiance I expected. And yes, I was aware that she did not live here as she was probably used to. My words served as pure provocation, but also to make my displeasure clear. I didn't like thieves in my own camp. This was hard worked money and she hadn't contributed to it. “Arthur dragged me here, against my will. I was tied up, threatened, treated like I was nothing and almost got shot. Now don't say it all happened for my or your safety. What the hell did you expect?!” She threw her hands up in the air, clearly frustrated. She wasn't lying. Still, she didn't see the bigger picture, but before I could say anything, she kept talking. "You always have big plans, now what?" I frowned. There were these moments when she spoke as if she knew us. Maybe that was just my feeling, but what if not? What if she hid something? What if she was a danger to us?  
"We gave you something to eat, didn't we? And you also had a place to sleep. Do you think trust is just given? Maybe if you start telling us the truth you earn our trust. You could start by giving this thing back to me.” I was fascinated by this black thing she called a mobile phone. I didn't understand it or its exact purpose, yet it made me incredibly curious. I had never seen anything like this before. No one had ever seen such equipment.  
"It belongs to me! You stole it from me!” She tried to turn the tables? Arthur leaned slightly down to her.  
"Quiet, miss." I heard him say as he put a hand on her shoulder. "She is tired, Dutch." We were all tired. The past few weeks had been rough. We struggled to survive, lost people and left all our assets in Blackwater. And now Arthur wanted to tell me that it wasn't easy for her right now? I frowned at him. It seemed to me that he has been questioning my plans and decisions far too often lately. It had started in Blackwater and it just kept going.  
"Are you questioning my decisions?" I asked Arthur directly. He shook his head.  
"No. But I don't think she’s a danger to us. "  
"She stole from us."  
"We did too, Dutch."  
I rubbed my chin tightly. "What do you think we should do with her? Huh!? After all, you brought her to us. I didn't ask for it.” I didn't want to let her go and I knew Arthur didn't want to either. We felt that she was hiding something from us. I just felt it.  
"Maybe we don't treat her like a prisoner anymore."  
"I can work!" We both looked at her. "I can help you if you don't want to let me go." For the first time since this conversation, she looked directly at me. "If you don't trust me, put me under surveillance." She reached into her pocket and pulled out this phone thing. She held it out to me with an outstretched hand, like proof of peace. "I just don't want to be locked up, threatened or tied up. I have no other place to go.” Maybe this was exactly what she wanted? Did she want to stay just to infiltrate us? Maybe she was here to get information about us. Or was she lost as much as we were?  
I took the phone and put it back in the box. Then I took a deep breath. "What do you think about it, Arthur? Do you like the idea, huh?” My tone was tense. I felt this tension since Blackwater.  
"Dutch, we're all behind you." Arthur had raised his hands. "Let her work. A helping hand doesn't hurt. "  
"I… I could help you with Micah."

#### Strawberry  
Micah

  
I was sitting on the floor of my cell, which I had to share with another guy. It stank like piss and shit, no one had ever kept this hole clean. The smell of fear had eaten into the brickwork of this basement. Upstairs I heard the sheriff talking to someone while I was sitting in almost complete darkness down here. The gallows waited for me and so far no one – NO ONE - had shown up to free me. Maybe that kid Lenny was telling everyone I was crazy? Or Arthur made Dutch leave me here. I never liked this bastard, but it's mutual. Dutch spends too much time talking to this cowpoke. Even calls him his son... I had done at least as much as Arthur. I rose from the floor. My face felt swollen, I could still taste my own blood in my mouth. I had to get out of here. I didn't want to end up on the gallows.  
The cell had a barred window to the outside world. I had to stand on tiptoe to see out. It was already getting dark outside and the streets of Strawberry were getting quieter. Someone was playing music somewhere, certainly the saloon. An old steam donkey stood across from the cell window. I shook the bars. I couldn't get out of here without a tool. There was nothing in here that could be useful. Unless I wanted to try to rub the bars with the shit of the former convicts to etch them away. Yes, that was the smell. I laughed lightly into myself, of course it wasn't a plan that would work. But I really ran out of ideas. Someone had to come, otherwise I would dangle from the rope at dawn. I shook the bars violently.  
"That won't do you any good," I heard my still drunken cellmate.  
"It keeps me from killing ya." I hissed back tensely without looking at him. I couldn't give up my life without a fight. I had to do something. I tried to push my arm between the bars; maybe I could grab something outside. It didn’t work. "Shit!" I swore, pulling my arm back. A door opened upstairs and I heard voices. But I couldn't understand anything, but shortly afterwards a door slammed shut.  
I heard footsteps approaching and tried to see something in the light of the street lamp. It was getting darker outside. "Arthur!?" I couldn't believe my own eyes when I saw him. He walked into the alley between the two buildings. "Arthur, down here!" I waved.  
"Oh, who do we have here?" Arthur stopped in front of the cell window, looked down at me. He seemed amused.  
"Hey, you gotta get me outta here. They wanna hang me. "  
"A spectacle that I would love to watch." I bit my tongue so as not to throw a snappy comment at him. He was a little sensitive inside. Instead, I sighed tightly.  
"Just get me out of here." Dutch had surely sent him, which meant that Lenny might not be so useless after all.  
"On one condition." What now?  
"Would that be?" I asked impatiently.  
"You tell me exactly where your former partner's house is. I'll get your revolver and then I'll take care of your little problem.” I frowned at his words, irritated. What the hell? How did he know about Skinny and my guns? How did he know? Lenny hadn't noticed it when hell broke loose. The kid had run away and left me here to die.  
"What?"  
He lit a cigarette. "You heard me, Micah. I can still go and tell Dutch I came too late.” He shrugged.  
"You can't do that!"  
"Who wants to stop me?" He had too much fun with this. "I hear." Did I really have any other choice? He was capable of leaving me here to die. He was loyal to Dutch like a dog to his master and yet I didn't know how big his hatred to me was. We had never gotten along and we haven't had to. But my life just seemed to depend on him and his decision. I could either risk it and maybe end up on the gallows or crawl up his ass. I didn't want to take the risk, so I gave him a description. He flicked the cigarette away and went away without another word. I watched him go and hoped he would come back. He was my last hope, no matter how bitter the thought was. I was forced to trust Arthur Morgan.

#### Horseshoe Overlook  
Emma

  
Dutch was sitting in a chair, I sat on the floor next to him. He had been silent for a long time. I really wondered what was going through his mind right now. Did he believe me? Was he thinking of a great new plan? I actually had to smile at the thought. Arthur had left shortly before dawn to free Micah. A part of me really wanted Arthur to fail. And the other part just hoped Arthur would follow my advice.

_"I could help you with Micah," I said confidently. I had to win the group's trust and if I could only do that by keeping him... that was a step I had to take. Dutch had looked at me completely amazed.  
"What?"  
“There is a window to his cell on the left side of the building. You can talk to him there, Arthur. The sheriff won't let you get to him, don't even try. When you find him, you basically have three options. You can use dynamite or the steam donkey next to the building..."  
"How do you wanna..."  
I kept chatting. "Or you kill the sheriff and the deputies. Then you can grab the cell key and free him - that would be the quietest way. You don't have any more options. But after that, you have to take care of him afterwards.” Dutch had become increasingly silent during my explanations. "He'll go crazy. And he'll want to go to a very specific house in Strawberry to get his guns back. His ex-partner lives there with his wife. Get the guns first or he'll shoot them both.”_

Dutch cleared his throat and pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up at him, but he still stayed silent. I sighed and plucked a few blades of grass from the ground. It had gotten dark. The campfires burned and Javier played the guitar calmly. I hoped Arthur would listen to me. This way I may save some lives and saved both of them from the escalation. If he was smart, he got the guns before releasing Micah. And if he was really smart, he wouldn't give this idiot a gun before they got out of Strawberry and were safe.  
Next to Dutch was an oil lamp that gave us light. The night brought a pleasant cooling. I felt dirty and could smell myself. It was a slight consolation that in this age it was quite normal not to take a bath every day. But that didn't change the fact that I was longing for a cool bath. I wanted to put on other clothes, put my legs up and watch some trash on the TV.  
"You’re a witch?" Dutch broke his silence.  
I looked at him. After I drew a map to Arthur (it had looked more like a child's drawing), they had asked me how I could know all these things. The best way to explain my knowledge was to be a fortune teller. The times of witchburnings were over, so I was not afraid to end up dead. And still no one had lynched me, even if I had offered it to Dutch. "Arthur can see everything for himself and if he doesn't come back you can shoot me, Dutch. Kill me if I lied.” I had said to him and was not sure how clever these words were. But I had faith in Arthur's skills. Dutch turned his gaze to me as I still owed him an answer. "Not a witch, no. But I don't know how else to describe it.” I shrugged my shoulders.  
"Mh." He rubbed his neck thoughtfully.  
"You don't believe me. You think I wanna betray you and put Arthur in danger. But how am I supposed to do this from here? Do you think I'm part of a huge conspiracy against you? He's there, he'll make up his own decisions and either he'll come back... or you will shoot me." I hoped neither Arthur nor Micah would be shot. Christ, I literally prayed for it, although I hated Micah.  
“If you tell the truth, you can stay and work. If not, it will be a pleasure.” I swallowed hard. My life depended on Arthur's success or failure. It was no longer in my own hands. I could only wait and hope.  
"I'm not kidding you." I looked at the fire and watched Javier. Dutch still looked at me, I could feel it. "I just want to be useful while I'm here." Maybe I could help write a different ending for the gang than the RDR2 creators themselves.  
"How did you get here? You have to remember something. "  
"I don't know." I sighed. "I'm not from here. I woke up in a meadow, Arthur found me and brought me here. But I don't know how I got to this meadow in the middle of nowhere.” I pushed down the sleeves of my sweater.  
"Have you been kidnapped?"  
"No idea." All I could remember was the thunderstorm, the lashing rain drumming against my windows, the thunder, the flashes of light that had started to flicker on the television and a bright, glowing light behind my half drawn curtains. The campfire's flames seemed to dance to Javier's music. Smoke rose in the night sky and somewhere you heard an owl's call. "I really have no idea."  
"We'll see how it all works out for you, Miss."

#### Strawberry  
Arthur

  
The card Emma had drawn looked like a joke. The girl really had no idea how to lay out a card. The description of Micah helped me. I left him in his cell and went to the house. It was behind a bridge and the windows were still brightly lit. I could see a shadow passing the window. I really would’ve preferred to sneak in while the residents were sleeping to avoid unnecessary attention. I stopped in front of the house and looked around. Micah was a fucking idiot and I didn't understand why Dutch held so much of this man. I didn't trust Micah, I trusted him less than a rattlesnake.  
I had to act quickly if I wanted to get into this house without being discovered. Fortunately, there was no one around me right now. No one was watching me. I pulled my bandana over my mouth to hide my face as I approached the door. I already had a hand on my revolver when I knocked. Inside I heard footsteps approaching the door. Finally it opened and a man faced me. Before the stranger could say anything, I took a step towards him, pulled my gun and pressed it against his stomach. "A sound and I’ll shoot you." I threatened and then pushed him back inside.  
"What's going on?!" I heard a hysterical woman.  
"It's all right, Miss, as long as you keep quiet." With my free hand, I quickly searched his pockets to make sure he wasn't carrying anything. Then I pushed him away, the revolver still pointed at him.  
"What do you want?" Skinny asked.  
"Sit down." The woman obeyed quickly and sat down at the round table. He did not. "I said sit down!" I went up to him and pressed the barrel against his forehead. "We don't want this to degenerate here."  
"What do you want?" He asked without responding to my threat.  
"Sit down, Norman!" the woman begged.  
"Listen to the lady." Skinny took a step back, raised his hands, and slowly sat down at the table.  
"What now, cowpoke?" Skinny asked and I understood why he had gotten along with Micah. He immediately disliked me. I didn't answer, I hit him with the handle of my revolver. A dull sound and his head slammed forward on the table. A short cry escaped the woman before she pressed her hands firmly over her mouth.  
"Oh no..." Her eyes were wide open. "Please... please don't hurt me," she pleaded.  
"Tell me where Micah Bells revolvers are and nothing will happen to you." Skinny was slumped down at the table, a trickle of blood running down his temple, but he was still breathing. She stared at me.  
"I don't know..."  
"Skinny here brought a gun home that wasn't his. Where is it?” I asked, looking directly at her.  
"I don't know of any weapon."  
"Are you sure?" I aimed the barrel at her. "Are you sure you wanna risk your life for it?"  
"I..." She buried her face in her hands, sobbing. "Maybe... maybe in the box over there."  
"The box there?" She put her hands down and she nodded. "Good." I went to the still sobbing woman.  
"Please don't do anything to me. "  
"It's all right, Miss." I lowered my revolver and grabbed her arm. "But I can't let you sit here."  
"What?" I pulled her to her feet. "What, what are you doing? I told you everything I know. Please…"  
I led her to the bed and felt resistance. "I'm not doing anything to you. Sit down.” She hesitantly sat down. Tears ran down her face and I sensed what she was thinking. But I wasn't going to offend her. I just have to stop her from alarming someone. I pulled out a thin rope with which I tied her hands together. Then her ankles. "He'll free you as soon as he wakes up."  
"Please…"  
"Sssh." I walked over to the unconscious Skinny and took off his scarf to put it in her mouth. She murmured things I couldn't understand anymore. I put her in a lying position. She whimpered and tried to free herself. "Stay calm. I will be gone as soon as I have what I want.“ I promised and went over to the box. Inside was some jewelry, a pistol and actually Micah's revolvers and holster. I took his belongings and looked at the woman again. She was lying still, staring at me with wide eyes. Her breath was quick and she was still trying to say something, but the gag nipped everything in the bud. I looked at Skinny, who was still lying with his head on the table. "Everything will be fine." I said before I went to the door. I opened it and left the house.  
Now it was time to free Micah no matter how much I hated him. At least I had to try and so far Emma had been telling the truth. She hadn't lied about Skinny, Micah was where he should be and everything else was just right. I couldn't understand it, but right now I didn't have the time to question it. It didn't matter whether she was a witch or not. Now I had to worry about getting Micah out of the cell and out of the city. I returned to the sheriff's building and Micah waved through the bars. I looked back and when I was sure no one was paying attention, I went to the front door of the building. I wanted to choose the quiet way. I pulled the bandana down and knocked before entering.  
"What do you want?" said a man sitting behind a desk. A few papers and his pistol were at hand.  
"Hello Sir, I've heard that you have Micah Bell in your care. I…"  
"I don't care how much his bounty is where you come from. This man will be hanged tomorrow morning. You are welcome to watch.“ the sheriff cut me off with these words. His deputy stood next to him and grinned stupidly.  
"Okay." I turned around just to grab my revolver. With my gun drawn, I turned back and shot the sheriff a nice hole in the chest. He flew back, the chair fell over and he hit the floor. His deputy immediately grabbed his gun, but I was faster. He fell back with his hand on the holster and landed lifeless on the ground. I quickly walked around the desk to take the keys from the sheriff. I searched his pockets until I heard a jingle. A cartridge slammed into the wall above my head. I ducked down, hid behind the desk and took the keys. More shots hit the desk. I stayed crouched and waited for a pause. The pause it took to reload a gun. I looked across the desk. At the back was a staircase that probably led down to the basement. Another deputy was standing there, loading new bullets into his weapon. I fired, he threw himself on the floor and also fired after he closed the chamber of his gun. Another of my bullets penetrated the deputy's skull.  
I dived out from behind the desk. I hurriedly took the stairs and hoped not to run into other men down there. "Arthur!" I heard Micah roar when I got down there. "Watch out!" Another bullet whizzed through the air and I was able to escape it. I aimed in the direction from which the shot had been fired. There were hardly any ways to hide myself down here. No boxes, no outgoing rooms, tables, nothing. So I just ducked and kept shooting. A pain went through my right upper arm. It burned, I felt the blood run down. But finally I saw the man who was aiming at me. I fired several shots, hit his thigh and he cried out. He went to the floor and his next shot went into the wall behind me.  
"Micah!" I reached for his guns and threw them near his cell. Micah reached through the bars and shot the man who was already on the ground. I checked my arm, but it only seemed to be a graze shot. It wasn't time for a closer look. I went to his cell, took out the keys and unlocked the door.  
"Why did it take ya so long?"  
"Do you wanna complain now?" I opened the door. "Come on, we have to get outta here."  
"Just a second." I looked at him in confusion, but then he turned and shot the man with whom he had shared this cell. "Now we can go." He pushed past me with a grin and I didn't suspect anything good. "What? ”He trotted up the stairs and I tore my eyes away from the body. I quickly hurried after him. We already heard a babble of voices outside. This shootout had not gone unnoticed. We had to get out of here quickly.

#### Horseshoe Overlook  
Emma

  
I must have fallen asleep because Dutch woke me up. I opened my eyes in fear of being shot. Had Arthur made it? Or was Micah already dangling from a rope? My feeling overwhelmed me. I simply couldn't handle it anymore. I just wanted to go back to my living room, my familiar surroundings. My year 2019. I didn't know what time it was. By now I had really lost track of time. If this was a dream and I wasn't so sure about that anymore, it needed to end. I looked at Dutch, who was not aiming a gun at me, as I expected. "You're lucky." he said and I sat up. After our last conversation we had sat next to each other in silence for hours. He'd spoken to others now and then, the most persistent was Molly. She had wanted to spend some time with him.  
"Are they back?" I followed his gaze and Arthur and Micah were actually riding into camp. Micah? In the game he had left alone after a fight with Arthur. He got off a horse, his face badly damaged and Arthur swore to himself as he tied his horse.  
"The lost sons are coming back." Dutch got up from his chair and I got up too.  
“Little Miss was right, Dutch. The idiot shot half the city.” Arthur said, who came up to us with Micah.  
"It was for a good cause, Morgan." Micah said.  
"That was unnecessary and you know that!"  
"Boys!" Dutch raised his hands soothingly. “The only important thing right now is that you're both alive."  
"Exactly my words, Dutch. But he doesn't want to understand.” Micah said.  
"Oh, shut up!" Arthur snapped back.  
"Did our guest tell the truth?" Arthur nodded in agreement. Dutch looked at me and suddenly grinned. "You really saved Micah's life." Well, first of all, he owed his life to Arthur and not to me. He had done everything.  
"What?" Micah raised his eyebrows and looked at me.  
"You're welcome?" I replied but I wasn't sure if I could really be happy about it. I looked at him and just thought: traitor. "So I'm a free woman?" I asked.  
Dutch nodded slowly. "For now. And if you have any more ideas, I want to know.”  
"What's going on here?" Micah looked confused. "Who is this?"  
"Emma." I introduced myself briefly. I didn't want to communicate with this man more than necessary. "I helped Arthur so that he could free you. He went on a rampage anyway? "  
Arthur turned to go. He clearly had enough of this madness, enough of Micah. I couldn't blame him. "We had to defend ourselves, honey." Micah replied.  
"Because of a gun?"  
"Who is that?!" Micah asked again.  
"She, Micah, is our fortune teller. She predicted everything.” Dutch had an arm around my shoulder as if he were suddenly proud of me. He had promised me hours ago that he would kill me. I was uncomfortable with this gesture from him (and the way he introduced me).  
"A fortune teller?" Micah took a step towards us.  
"Kinda..." I said.  
"Arthur!" Dutch called him back. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Please take care of her, get her a place to sleep. I need to talk to Micah.” Dutch dropped his arm from my shoulder and pushed me lightly in the direction of Arthur. I was grateful to be allowed to go and quickly caught up with Arthur, who was already on the way to his bed.  
"How did you know all of this?" He asked.  
"It's a gift." The words certainly sounded as ridiculous in my ears as they did in his. But just now I felt inspired by my adrenaline. I didn't have to wear shackles anymore and more importantly, I was still alive. "Sorry." I added when I saw his look. "I can't explain it to you."  
"You keep saying that."  
"I can't even explain it to myself! If it's easier for you, then I'm just a fortune teller.” He stopped in front of his bed and grabbed a thick blanket, which he rolled out on the floor.  
"You can sleep here. Tomorrow we will think of something else. Maybe you can stay with the other women.” He added another blanket that was rolled up. When he bent down to put them on the floor as well, I noticed his arm. He was bleeding.  
"Shit! You’re hurt! ”I reached for his wrist. Arthur pulled his arm away.  
"I take care of it myself.” He sat on his bed.  
"Let me help you." I stood in front of him. I wasn’t a nurse nor a doctor or even a veterinarian. My field of activity was a children's and youth facility, nicely formulated residential group, old-fashioned orphanage. I had no idea how to stitch a wound or any other useful skill. But I knew that the wound should be sterilized. If there were parts of the bullet, they had to be removed. A little bit of House MD I had seen too... "Let me take a look."  
"And then?"  
"Come on." He sighed quietly, then opened his shirt to pull his arm out of his sleeve. He sucked in the air sharply. All the blood probably made it worse than it really was. I saw no bullet hole, no exit wound. "I need water and..." Tilly walked along behind me. "Tilly! Can you bring me water and alcohol?” I asked her and she stopped. "Arthur is injured, he was shot." Tilly nodded, despite the irritation on her face and hurried off.  
"What you up to?"  
"I'll clean, sterilize and then bandage the wound." I explained. At least that sounded like something a doctor would do. I didn't know whether it had to be sewn or not.  
"What happened?" Miss Grimshaw suddenly asked.  
"Nothing happened, Miss Grimshaw," growled Arthur.  
"I'll take care of it," I said.  
"You?" she asked in surprise.  
"Yes, everything is OK. Miss Jackson already brings me everything I need.” She looked at me closely, crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to want to watch.  
Tilly came back. She had filled a small bowl with water and was holding a bottle in her hand. Probably the alcohol I ordered. "Here." She handed me the things and I put them on the floor in front of Arthur.  
"Can you give me your neckerchief?" I asked him. Tilly and Miss Grimshaw watched the scene.  
"Why?"  
"I told you. Please give it to me.” He undid the knot and handed me his black scarf. I wet it and gently wiped the wound. Little by little I removed the blood, which was already partially dry. Certainly a good sign! The water in the bowl quickly turned red.  
"And you really know what you're doing?" he asked me.  
"Yes and no." But my knowledge was certainly more solid than that from 1899. At least I hoped. "I'll sterilize the wound now." I opened the bottle and I could smell the alcohol. Moonshine. Clearly. I wrung out his bandana before running some of the alcohol over it. "Could burn." After these words, I covered the wound with the cloth, but he didn't even flinch. I saw his jaw muscles tighten as if he were gritting his teeth for a brief moment. "Okay." I looked at my work. The wound was really less bad than the blood had suggested. And it didn't seem to be deep. Steristrips would certainly have been a good way to close the edges of the wound. "Do you have another one?" I held up his neckerchief.  
"Here." Tilly handed me a handkerchief that she had worn around her wrist. I nodded gratefully before I tied it around his arm.  
"That should be it.”I almost felt like a real doctor. I didn't know how far medicine had evolved so far.  
Miss Grimshaw seemed to have seen enough as she turned to go. "Come on, Miss Jackson." she said to Tilly, who gave me a smile before she followed her. Would they go straight to Dutch to report my little heroic deed? I watched them go, still standing next to Arthur, who was now taking off his shirt completely. I looked ashamedly aside and sat on the blanket he had laid out for me on the floor.  
"No thank you?" I asked him as he pulled on another shirt. One that was less stained with blood.  
"Thank you.”He closed the last buttons on the shirt before lying on his bed.


	3. Chapter 3 - Do you believe me now?

#### Emma

  
The sun woke me up. Arthur was already gone. The sun was high in the sky and it was warm. I sat up and looked around. Some of the camp residents were awake. Pearson was already standing in front of his saucepan and pondering, someone was chopping wood. I yawned and rubbed sleep out of my eyes. A sleep my body desperately needed. I felt fitter than the day before, even though my back hurt. The blanket on the floor was not very comfortable. I pushed my sleeves up as far as possible. My skin felt sticky from all the sweat that stuck to me. I would give anything for a shower, really anything.  
I got up from my sleeping place and stretched up. Maybe I should start the day with a yoga workout? I leaned forward and tried to touch the tips of my toes, but I didn't get quite that far. I felt like an old woman. I straightened up again and looked at the campfire. It had gotten smaller, but it was still burning. Someone had already added wood so it wouldn't burn out. Tilly was sitting by the fire with a mug in her hands. Maybe coffee? A coffee would be great! Could I get one? I went over to her. "Hey," I greeted her. "May I take a seat?"  
She gave me a slight smile. Most of the camp residents looked at me with this strange expression on their faces. Understandable, after all, I was no longer just the strange stranger, but also a fortune teller. Or a witch. To my surprise, Tilly slid aside on the log to make room for me. "Sit down." I sat next to her. "Slept well?"  
"I would prefer a real bed, but otherwise." I should probably not complain. Tilly shrugged slightly. I felt small beads of sweat form on my forehead as I was now squatting in the blazing sun. I could see Arthur talking to Dutch. Maybe they were philosophizing about my future or what tasks I could to around here. I was ready to do anything as long as they didn't send me away. Even though they were all alien to me, they were like old acquaintances to me. They certainly saw it differently, but they also didn't know what I knew.  
"It was nice of you to help Arthur."  
"A doctor would have made it more professional." But I wasn't sure.  
She looked at the fire. "Are you really a fortune teller?" she asked. There was curiosity in her voice and I could hardly blame her. I still couldn't understand what was happening here or what had happened to me. They all had a watchful eye on me, I felt it. And a glance to the side was enough to see that I was under observation right now. Micah was leaning against one of the wagons, watching me.  
"Um..." I looked away. "Something like that."  
"Do you have visions or dreams of the future?"  
"It's more... um... like Déjà-Vus." Oh yes. Only I didn't just feel like I had experienced this or that.  
She eyed me, frowning. "Warm, huh?"  
"Damn right," I agreed.  
"Follow me. You helped Arthur, now I'm helping you.” She rose, smiling and took a few steps. "Come on."  
I followed the other woman. "I really don't want to bother you."  
"It's not a problem." She led me to her sleeping area, which was near Arthur's. "I can’t watch this any longer."  
I wiped the sweat from my forehead. "Thank you."  
She nodded and opened a wooden chest from which she pulled a bluish dress. It had short sleeves, was slightly fitted, closed with white buttons at the front and had a high neckline. She held it up, held it in front of me and looked satisfied. "That should work."  
"You sure?"  
"I'll lend it to you until you have something else. Now change your clothes.” I looked around before slipping my sweater over my head. Then I put on the dress whose buttons Tilly had already opened up for me. I got in, slipped it over my shoulders, and started to close the buttons. Then I got rid of my sweatpants. "You look really good."  
I looked down at myself. "I rarely wear dresses." Sometimes I wore skirts.  
"Too bad. It makes you another woman. "  
"Where I come from not many women wear dresses." In my circle of friends I just had one friend who wore always a dress. I would’ve preferred a simple shirt, but I didn't want to complain. Tilly showed me an honest hint of hospitality for the first time. "Thank you." I stroked the fabric and left two buttons open at the top. I took my sweater and sweatpants, I could still use them.  
"What are ya doing here, girl?" asked a someone and we both flinched. We turned almost simultaneously and there he was. Half grinning and looking at us, Micah. How long has he been there?  
"Nothing, Micah." Tilly rolled her eyes.  
"Ya need to stay in sight - instruction from Dutch." He walked towards both of us, I took a step back. I didn't want to let him get any closer to me. But his hand came up to me and grabbed my wrist. Hard. "Come on."  
"Micah, leave her. She will follow you without you forcing her to. "  
"None of your concern, Miss Jackson." He pulled my arm. "The dress really suits ya better than her." Great, I didn't want any compliments from him. I no longer felt so comfortable in my outfit. "Don't worry, I'm just bringing her back." he said to Tilly, who still followed us.  
"All right. We were just about to go back.” I was very grateful to her for not leaving me alone with him.  
"Can you just let go of me?"  
"So that you get away from me?" He laughed. He had already heard of my little escape. "I like to take care of ya."  
I twisted my wrist in his grip and got away. "I'm not running away." He grabbed me right away, but I backed away. "Leave it!"  
"Oh no, darlin’. We still have to talk!” He tried to get hold of me but I jumped back. I definitely didn't want to be pushed around. Not from this snake, whether he was playing by the rules or not. I knew what he was capable of.  
"Micah." Tilly tried to intervene and stood between us, but he pushed her aside.  
"Stay out of it!" Again he came up to me.  
I looked around. "Arthur!" I called out of the blue, as I could see him with Dutch. They both turned their heads in our direction. Micah grabbed my upper arm and pulled me close, just then Arthur started to move quickly towards us. Tilly waved at him, which got him going faster.  
"Let go of her! She is our guest, not a prisoner. “, he called halfway.  
"Dutch wants her to stay in sight." Micah snapped back.  
"Leave her alone!" Arthur sounded stern. He pushed Micah aside, forcing him to let go of me. Tilly took a few steps to avoid getting between the two. I also dodged when Arthur passed me. I stood behind him, Micah in front of him.  
"What's up, cowpoke? Jealous?” He grinned and pushed Arthur back, bumping me lightly. I got to the side.  
"Get lost before you’ll regret it." said Arthur.  
"So what?"  
"You don't want me to accidentally put a bullet in your head." I couldn't tell if it was just an empty threat by Arthur or not. I knew how little he thought of Micah. This man was a rat, no, rats were actually too social to describe him. I carefully put a hand on Arthur's shoulder that he didn't seem to notice. Or he ignored me.  
"Let it be," I said quietly. He looked briefly over his shoulder.  
"You wouldn't dare." Micah said walking towards him. Arthur turned back and suddenly his fist whistled through the air and hit Micah on the chin. He stumbled back, lost his grip and landed on his bottom.  
"You miserable..." But Micah was interrupted.  
"Hey!" Dutch yelled. "Micah! Get over here!"  
Micah glanced at Dutch, who was not very pleased. Slowly he got up, brushed the dirt off his pants and rubbed his chin. "Already on the way, Dutch." But he turned around again. I was still behind Arthur. "This isn't over yet. Take care of your little sweetheart, Morgan. We don't want anything to happen to her… accidentally.” At his last words, he mimicked exactly the tone Arthur had struck. He spat blood on the ground in front of Arthur before he turned away. I wondered if he received a sermon by Dutch on how to behave himself.  
"You shouldn't look for enemies in your own ranks because of me." I said to Arthur. Tilly had left during the scuffle.  
"Micah is..." Arthur snorted visibly angrily and swallowed the swear word that should have followed. "He won't hurt you. I'll make sure of that. "  
"Do you always ignore well-intentioned advice?" His words took some of my worry, but I didn't want to get him into trouble.  
"I can't stand this bastard, it's no secret. If he gets too close to you, I'm sure I’ll have Dutch's goddamn blessing to finally kill him.” He rubbed the knuckles that had hit Micah's chin.  
"You don't have to provoke it." He shook his hand and watched Dutch speaking to Micah. "And?" I asked. "Is there work for me?" I wanted to change his mind.

***

Arthur led me to a wagon that Pearson had filled with some groceries in Valentine. Pearson was already unloading boxes of fruits and vegetables. "Our guest will help you." Arthur announced, patting me on the shoulder as if I needed a lift.  
Pearson examined me. "As long as she annoys me less than Mrs. Adler." He went over to his wagon with a box.  
"Go on, girl." I looked from Arthur to the boxes and also grabbed one of them, which was heavier than I expected. I carried it to the Pearsons cooking area. We carried a box after another to his small cooking area. There also were a couple of well-filled sacks. The unloading might took half an hour. Arthur had been watching us for a while without making any effort to help us. Then he went away to provide the horses with some hay.  
Pearson didn't talk much. He only told me what I had to do and gave me strange looks every now and then. He didn't seem to like that I was helping him. Me, the self-proclaimed fortune teller. But I was happy to have something to do to make myself feel useful and to be far away from Micah. For a moment I could forget what mess I was in. I didn't ponder how I got here or how I could get back. I just did my job.  
"Can you cook?" Pearson finally asked as he dismantled a chicken. He didn't look up from his work, he plucked the feathers from the dead animal and dropped them on the floor.  
"A little." I wasn't the best cook. But I was able to conjure up a few simple dishes, for which I lacked most of the ingredients here. Spaghetti, for example.  
"A little..." he murmured, laughing softly. "All right. Grab a knife and cut the carrots. You can do that, right? "  
I frowned. "Sure." I took one of the knives, got some of the carrots and started cutting. "What's up today?"  
"The same as most of the time." Which was probably stew. I could live with that, even though I was longing for something sweet. Or a pizza! Was it possible to prepare one over an open campfire? Did you absolutely need an oven? We had tomatoes, cheese too and for the dough... we could just cut a bread in half and... that would probably be a waste, for so many people we needed more than just one pizza.  
"Should I throw the carrots in the pot?" I asked and he nodded. I went over to the pot and threw in the sliced carrots. "What now?"  
"Ever disassembled a chicken?"  
No, I bought my meat packaged or directly from the butcher. "No."  
Pearson sighed. "OK. Then... um. Get me a bucket of water.” I nodded, took a metal bucket from Pearson and he showed me where I could find the water-filled barrels. On the way I saw Arthur go to Mr. Strauss who was calling for him. But I stopped thinking about it and finally reached the water barrels. I dipped the bucket in and pulled it up again. On the way back I tried to lose as little water as possible, which was not so easy. The bucket was full to the brim, so I spilled it a few times.  
"... and then there is Mr. Downes. His ranch is near Cumberland Falls. Do whatever it takes to convince him to pay.” I stopped. Mr. Downes? My stomach began to hurt when I overheard this part of the conversation. He was not allowed to go to this man! Not if he loved his life. I hurriedly dragged the bucket to Pearson, paying no attention whether I spilled a lot or not. When I got there, I put the bucket down and went to see Arthur, who was already on his way to his horse.  
"Where do you wanna go? Hey!” I heard Pearson call out but I didn't listen. I walked over to the horses in a hurry. I did not ran. I didn't want to raise the suspicion of wanting to flee again. But I had to stop Arthur, who was working on his saddlebag. He was not allowed to go to this ranch without knowing the danger lurking there. I had to warn him.  
But someone stood in my way, grinning. "Well, where do we wanna go, huh?" Micah blocked my way.  
"I... I need to speak to Arthur." I wanted to walk past him, but he got in my way again.  
"I don't think ya have to."  
"Micah, please." I tried again.  
"We both have a bit to talk about."  
"I don't think so... get out of my way!" I looked directly his face. "It’s important!" Very, very important.  
"What's so important?" I had enough. I pretended to want to go past him on his left and when he took a step in that direction, I hurriedly pushed past him on the right. And yes, now I took on running because Arthur had already climbed up his horse. His horse started to move slowly, I ran faster. "Stay here!" Micah hissed behind me and followed me. At least that's what I suspected from his walking pace. I didn't want to turn around. My goal was Arthur and saving his life.  
"Arthur!" I called, but he didn't seem to hear me. The steps behind me got faster, Arthur's horse got faster. "Arthur!" He disappeared between the trees and a hand grabbed my hair, pulled me back. I let out a painful moan and reached for the hand that was trying to stop me.  
"You stay here! Dear Arthur will definitely have time for ya when he's back."  
"NO!" I shouted in his face and kicked him between his legs with full force. His eyes widened, he let out a groan and his hand let go of my hair. He dropped to his knees and gasped for breath. I turned away, looked around and ran towards one of the horses. I couldn't catch up with him on foot no matter how fast my legs carried me. Hey, I wasn't Usian Bolt. I approached a black horse that was already carrying its saddle. At least I knew theoretically how to get on such an animal. I put one foot in the stirrup, eyeing the horse critically, grabbed the saddle at the top and hoisted myself up there. During my upward movement, the animal staggered a few steps forward, I was almost losing my grip. But I held on and actually managed to get in the saddle without falling down on the other side.  
I anxiously held on to the mane of the animal that had started to move. Like Micah, as I just noticed. He stumbled towards me, one hand still in the crotch. "Get off my horse!" Great.  
"You'll get it back!" I called. "If I don't die..." I whispered softly. I picked up the reins, got my other foot in the stirrup and put pressure on my legs. My sister regularly visited a riding stable. She even rode tournaments, which of course I visited every now and then. I knew how to do it, at least from watching her. Unfortunately, it was a complete different story if you sit in the saddle yourself, because the horse didn't move.  
"Baylock!" Micah called for his animal, which seemed to be completely irritated and although I was already sorry inside, I stepped more firmly into the horse's sides with my heels. Baylock jerked his head up and sprinted ahead. I clung to his mane and I almost fell over his neck, but I somehow managed to stay up. Micah kept roaring behind me.  
"Ssshhh, stay calm." I tried to calm Baylock, who was anything but pleased with my inexperience. "Please." As if that would help. The horse was prancing back and forth under my ass, sometimes faster, sometimes slower. After all, he didn't buck. Not yet. I prayed that would not happen and gave him the spurs again (at least figuratively, because I didn't have any). This time he really trotted ahead and I tried to steer him with the reins in the direction I wanted him to go. Arthur could be anywhere by now. "Come on!" Another kick, another quick prayer and another apology to poor Baylock who had to endure me. He sped up and I tried to stay in the saddle. I was probably doing just about everything wrong. My sister would scold me if she saw me. I, like a sack of flour that somehow tried not to fall.  
But we moved away from camp. Trees rustled past us and finally I was able to discover the trail. There I turned Baylock to the left, because I could see Arthur in the distance. Unfortunately I heard another galloping horse behind me. Baylock was still picking up speed. Just don't fall, I thought over and over again. "ARTHUR!" I shouted with all my strength. First, then a second and third time. And finally his head turned. He looked over his shoulder and saw me galloping on Micah's horse. He even turned and I? I cried out when I remembered that I didn't know how to brake such an animal! Baylock had gotten damn fast now and suddenly he jumped aside. Began to buck like a savage. I let go of the reins, wrapped my arms around the animal's strong neck, squeezed my thighs as tightly as I could and tried to hold on.  
Baylock dashed past Arthur. I was followed by Micah who took one of the other horses to stop me. "How do you stop this thing!?" I screamed desperately.

#### Arthur

  
Baylock galloped past me with Emma on his back. What the hell? I watched them go, Micah following on Charles' horse. And I repeat, what the hell was going on? Why was she sitting on Baylock and screaming like hell? This woman seemed to have never been on a horse in her entire life. Her panic made Baylock panic. In the meantime he bucked quite a bit and she just clung tightly. After all, he no longer galloped across the meadow like a savage. He stood on the side of the road and jumped into the air, threw his head back, kicked out. This horse was not a happy one. I rode close to the two and then jumped out of my saddle. I carefully approached Baylock. "Woah, easy... easy, boy." My voice was calm. "Stop screaming like that!"  
"She’s mine!" Micah yelled, but I ignored him. I slowly approached Baylock.  
"Easy now... ”Emma had already let go of the reins and I carefully tried to reach for them.  
"Morgan!" Micah hissed, who had reached us.  
Baylock heard his owner's voice and was now only prancing nervously. After all, Micah Bell was capable of calming a horse. "Easy." I took the reins and patted the animal's neck. "Good boy."  
Meanwhile, Micah dismounted from Charles' horse and trudged towards us. At first I thought he wanted to angrily pull the reins from me. Instead he grabbed Emma and pulled her down. She slammed onto the path, dust whirled around her. I let go of the reins and Baylock trotted away restlessly. "You bitch!" Micah snapped furiously and pulled on her hair.  
"Hey, hey, hey!" I intervened, pushed him aside and made him let go of her. "What the hell is this going!? Can either of you explain it to me?” This could bring us unwanted attention and we really didn't need it. I stopped guarding Emma, who was holding her head with tears in her eyes. Micah held some of her loose hair in his closed fist.  
"Isn't that obvious, cowpoke?" Micah approached me, but I pushed him back again.  
"Stop it!" Baylock had stopped and was watching the spectacle from a distance. "What's going on?"  
"I... I have to... I have to speak to you!" She said suddenly accompanied by a sob. "Please... I... I have to warn you!"  
"Warn me about what?"  
"She stole my horse!"  
"Lent!" She hissed at him.  
"Morgan, get outta my way."  
"Micah, stop it. Calm down, this doesn't help anyone! If we're unlucky, the wrong people will hear us. So stop it!” I said. Micah took a deep breath, exasperated with anger. "Can you control yourself for a moment? Is that possible?"  
Micah threw up his hands and whistled for his horse. Baylock walked slowly towards him and Micah held onto the reins before swinging into the saddle. "You'll pay me for it, darling!” He leaned down to grab the reins from Charles' horse that he had taken out of camp. He turned around with Baylock and rode back to camp. I looked at sobbing Emma on the floor. What had got into her? I shook my head before I held out a hand to help her get up.  
"What's going on, girl?"  
She sniffed, pulled the snot up and wiped the tears from her face. "I have to warn you."  
"Why?"  
"Thomas Downes."  
I frowned. Downes was a poor, simple rancher. No violent gunman or anything like that. He was not a danger to me or to anyone else. This man had borrowed money from us and I simply wanted collect this debt. Where did she saw a danger for me or the others? I just didn't understand this woman. "What?"  
"He has tuberculosis. And if you are not careful, he will infect you and you will die from it. Please, just trust me."  
"What?" I repeated. How did she know that this man was terminally ill? Was it a new vision that showed my future? I shook my head and put an arm around her shoulder to lead her to my horse. "I'm taking you back to camp. Be happy if Dutch continues to let you walk freely.” I let my arm drop and wanted to help her, but she held my hand.  
"Arthur, please. I’m not lying. You will die if you are not careful! Please, believe me. I know it!"  
"How?"  
"I saw it!" She was close to tears again. "Please, trust me!" I looked at her for a long time. What if she really spoke the truth? As for Micah, her words had also come true. We all didn't know how, but she knew it. But could she really foresee my death? Or did she just wanted to save a poor rancher from his fate? I didn't know if I could really trust her. "He... he won't be able to pay you back either. He has nothing. "  
"And you probably saw that too?"  
"Yes. He cannot pay his debts and if you go to him you will be infected. The illness will be your end. I'm not lying, Arthur. "  
I frowned. "Get on, I'll take you back now." She sighed and stepped into the stirrup. I helped to make sure that she got up safely. Then I sat behind her, grabbed the reins around her and rode back to camp with her. Micah had surely already told everyone what had happened. He surely was still cursing angrily. We rode through the trees and arrived at the camp, Dutch was already waiting for us. I helped her get down.  
"Take care, please." She held my hand and looked at me. I could clearly see fear in her eyes. She squeezed my hand briefly before she let go. Who was she? How did she wanted to know all of this?  
"Miss Hunter!" Dutch came up to her. "We have to talk!" I nodded slowly to Dutch and then turned my horse to ride out of the camp. I went to Mr. Downes' ranch.

#### Emma

  
"I really hope you don't try to take advantage of our hospitality and trust." Dutch faced me and I looked down at my feet. There was something in his eyes that completely intimidated me. I was aware that loyalty and being able to trust his members were very important to him. And I was aware that I was not a member of his gang and that he could actually harm me. Dutch was able to be cruel. He wanted to protect himself. My action really wasn’t one of my smartest decisions. In his eyes I was certainly pretty untrustworthy and I couldn't even blame him. He had given me a chance. "Look at me." he said harshly and I raised my head.  
“No.” I answered.  
"Then you will surely explain to me what this little ride with Micah's horse meant."  
"I wanted to warn Arthur. Micah didn't let me.” I replied. "Believe me, I would have loved to have avoided sitting on that horse. Micah gave me no other choice…” My back ached from falling. Even my scalp still felt like being on fire and I preferred not to know how much hair I had lost. For the first time I was happy to have thick hair. I had cursed it many times on hot summer days, but now it had probably saved me from carrying a bald spot.  
"What did you want to warn Arthur about?"  
"I... I had a... vision." I felt stupid to play this card out myself. But it was my best excuse for my strange behavior. "The man who owes you money is terminally ill." I took a deep breath and tried to release my tension. "I had to warn Arthur so he could protect himself.” I wanted to save Arthur from this fate. I had this knowledge, so why shouldn't I use it to help? There was currently no other place for me to go. I didn't know my way around this century. I had all my knowledge from films, games or documentaries. In this world, at this time... I wasn't viable. Not without protection. "Mr. Downes will not be able to pay the debts. “ I added a little quieter.  
"You were concerned about Arthur's life?"  
"I still am." Because I didn't know whether he believed me or not. What if something went wrong? What if he didn't protect himself enough? I wasn't even sure if it was enough if he covered his face. I only knew that tuberculosis was a death sentence here.  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
"I couldn’t. Arthur was already on the way to his horse. You couldn't have warned him anymore. I... fuck. I just wanted to help, Dutch. I don't want anything bad for you and neither do the others…” Except maybe Micah, but I didn't say that. "Should I have left him to his fate?"  
Dutch frowned. "No." He put a hand on his neck and just looked at me.  
"It wasn't an attempt to get away, really not." I would have fled on foot rather than sitting on a horse. "I don't even know how to ride!" Which I certainly had presented more than clearly. I didn't know how to steer, ride or even stop such an animal. No wonder Baylock had completely freaked out.  
"You don't know how to ride?" Was it really that surprising? I shook my head in response and saw him smile. "Still, you did tried to warn Arthur." I nodded. He put a hand on my shoulder, almost fatherly and smiled slightly. Was it a serious smile or was he just faking it to keep me safe? "What other things do you remember that can help us."  
"What do you mean?"  
"You knew about Micah and Mr. Downes. What else?” Did he wanted to hear that I knew he was putting money aside? Or that Micah would eventually betray him? That he'd better take care of Molly before she did anything stupid? Maybe that the Pinkertons were on their heels or it wasn't a good idea to raid the train from Cornwall? So many possibilities. At the same time, I wondered what I could do with my knowledge. What if he just wanted to take advantage of me to raise more money to achieve his goals? Tahiti?  
"The visions... I can't control them." I decided to remain silent at first. "I don't know everything, Dutch. I can't tell you what your life will be like in five years.” I could roughly say it… I could even tell him how it ended. But I didn't because I didn't trust his motives. Even if he was a good man inside, he was on a dangerous path. Even Hosea said he was no longer like he used to be. Blackwater had changed a lot. It changed him or made him slowly show his true face. No matter what it was... I didn't trust him.  
"Mh." His hand dropped from my shoulder and his smile disappeared. A stern look remained. "Talk to Micah. Apologize if you really intend to stay with us any longer. Tensions can be dangerous, Miss Hunter.” Suddenly he sounded cold. He really asked me to speak to Micah? Micah did not think rationally and after the whole story, he surely preferred to see me lying dead in the dirt in front of him. Still, I nodded again.

#### Micah

  
This girl was fucking crazy! I was sitting under an old beech tree a little off the camp. My balls fucking hurt. A cigarette hung between my lips and an open bottle of whiskey was next to me. Fortunately, nothing had happened to Baylock. Everyone said she was some kind of fortune teller and that she had helped to save me... pah, as if I owed her something now. In the end, Morgan had done the job and not her. And yet she avoided a proper conversation with me. I really wasn't a monster.  
I flicked my cigarette away and watched it go out. Emma behaved like shit and I got one sermon after another from Dutch. His head was in the clouds. This girl was only playing games with us. I didn't believe all that fortune teller bullshit that told us. She pretended to be on our side, slowly infiltrating us. Witchcraft – that was bullshit. I took a generous sip from the bottle. Why did everyone believe her without questioning her motives? I shook my head. We should get her to open up instead of kissing her ass.  
"M-Micah?" Oh, there she was. I looked aside and there was the little witch. The hands clasped, tense and insecure. Did I scare her? A smile crossed my face.  
"What?" I replied harshly.  
"Can we... talk?" I simply laughed and took another sip.  
"Suddenly the witch wants to talk.” I put the bottle down next to me again. "And now I have to listen like everyone else, huh?"  
She came a little closer. "No, it's just..." She nervously brushed a strand of hair from her face. She was pretty, at least something.  
"My balls are still hurting, so spit it out!" I looked away and saw a crow making its rounds in the sky.  
"I didn't want the shit to escalate like this."  
She cursed? That made her almost likeable. "Is that so?" I shrugged. "Do I get a heartbreaking apology now?" I laughed again. "Dutch sent ya." She surely would’ve never thought of speaking to me on her own. She even avoided eye contact since I got back here. This sudden change certainly did not come from her. Dutch sensed tension inside the group and wanted to do something about it. Because of him, not because of me.  
"No… I… um..."  
"Stop stuttering at last." I picked up the whiskey bottle and held it out to her. "Here. Maybe that will loosen your tongue.” Reluctantly, she reached for the bottle and just before she could reach for it, I pulled my hand back a little. "But first ya will sit down. Standing around makes me nervous.” With a grin, I patted next to me. She glanced over her shoulder. "What? Do ya think I will kill Dutch’s newest toy."  
"Toy?"  
"If ya hadn't told him all this bullshit, you would’ve been long gone." I wasn't sure about that, after all, Dutch seemed to have a slight weakness for gather useless people. There were some guys here that were more useless than a blind horse. I was sure that her lies would get her or us in trouble. Sooner or later... "What is it now, girl?" She hesitated a bit, then she actually sat down, but not next to me. She was careful to keep her distance and crouched across from me; with an arm's length distance. I smiled and held out the bottle again, but this time she hesitated longer. "Go ahead."  
"Thank you." She took the bottle from me and took a sip. Coughing, she grimaced, which only made me laugh again. She couldn't ride a horse, according to Pearson she couldn’t even cook and she didn't seem to like strong alcohol. Either she was a fine lady or... or what? I did not know.  
"You wanted to talk, now talk." She actually took another sip, squeezing her eyes tightly. "Leave me something, girl." She didn't seem to like it anyway.  
She took a deep breath and handed the bottle back to me. "I had to talk to Arthur."  
"Why?" And then it started. She was talking about her vision. The guy Strauss had cheated on, was apparently terminally ill. Well, I thought to myself, maybe that would shorten the time I had with Morgan. The aversion was really mutual.  
"I didn't know what to do when you got in my way..."  
"Listen, girl. Dutch and the others seem to buy everything you say. Not me. I don't trust your oh-so-good intentions. You'll have to do more to convince me.” I grinned at her.

#### Emma

  
I took a deep breath otherwise I would’ve thrown the bottle directly in his face. Why did he have to make this so difficult for me? I didn't want to apologize to him and beg for forgiveness. He had acted like an asshole and not me! Everything that had happened could have been avoided. But of course he didn't see that. "What do you want? Should I dance my apology?!” My eyebrows wrinkled, I was annoyed.  
"Dancing would be a good start for me." Disgusting. Just disgusting. But I tried to swallow any resentment that arose. He was unpredictable, he was insane in my eyes. I didn't want to risk my life and make him angry with me again. His actions earlier had really been enough. I didn't want him to hit me or do anything else to me. In his presence I felt incredibly uncomfortable and yes, fear also played a part in it. But wasn't that understandable? Especially since I knew the story, I knew what he was capable of. He might not have known it at the time, but I was aware of it. His own well-being was more important to him than that of the others.  
"No." I finally answered.  
"Then what do ya wanna offer me, honey? A few of your visions to make me a rich gentleman? Wouldn't be bad either.” He clicked his tongue and leaned his head back against the tree.  
If he didn't believe me, why didn't he go to Mr. Downes and get blood coughed on his face? I tugged a few blades of grass from the ground and gathered them in my lap. "Okay." I got up resolutely, the grass sailed to the ground. "Come on." He raised his eyebrows as if he were thinking of something else. "Just let any disgusting comment be that shoots through your head right now. Just come with me.” I took a few steps, unsure whether my idea was so good. But at least it was one that might also appease Dutch. Micah got up, groaning, bottle in hand and followed me. I led him to the Dutch’ tent, who was reading a book. "I need my phone, Dutch."  
He looked up. "Please what?"  
"Just give it to me and I'll tell you what I know." Maybe they’ll finally stop asking.  
"I have no idea." Micah said, raising his hands slightly. Dutch looked from me to him and then back again before rising. He closed his book and put it on his bed. Then he went to the cash-box to take my phone out. Without a word, he handed it to me and I hoped that the battery had not died yet. I pressed the button on the side and it lit up. 3:45 p.m. and just under 72 percent battery. At least something. But not surprising, it was just lying around unused. Maybe I should turn it off after my little demonstration.  
"What now?"  
"Now we're going on a journey through time." I was annoyed that there was no reception here. “You know photographs. You take some with this thing.” I opened the camera. "Stand next to me, okay?"  
"I don’t underst…"  
"You don’t have understand anything yet, Dutch. Please. Just do it.” Dutch and Micah hesitantly placed themselves next to me, one on the left, one on the right. I switched to the selfie camera.  
"A hand mirror?"  
"No." I grinned briefly before I patted the trigger with my thumb. It flashed, the men flinched and stepped aside. "Don’t panic. Just a photo.” I showed them the picture I just shot. “See?" Dutch’ eyes widened and he wanted to snatch my phone from me, but I didn't let him. "Wait a minute!" I opened my gallery. "Let's go on a journey through time. This phone can take photos.” I went to a photo my mom had sent me for my birthday. "That's me with my mother, on May 27, 1992." A weak but happy smiling mother with a baby in her arms.  
"1992?" Dutch echoed.  
"What the hell?" Came Micah.  
I did not let myself be put off by this and opened further photos. School ball, the Toronto skyline, cars, snapshots, everything. Anything that could prove that I wasn't from here. Yes, not even from this time. The two grew quieter over time. Hardly said a peep. They stared at my phone, blinked a little incredulously and sometimes, sometimes they asked stupid questions (by today's standards). There was plenty of information that I shared. Facts, years, latest achievements. I described streets, cars, how devices work when they appeared in the background, rattling down the years to the pictures. Everything. As if I was explaining the world to a child. Small steps, slow, thoughtful and sometimes even I was at a loss. I didn’t know if this would work. I didn't know if it made them both believe me or if they already made eye contact to see who was going to put a bullet in my head. Did they see me as a time traveler or as a witch? Did they get anything I gave out so generously? I babbled more than in the past few days.  
Finally, I turned the display black. Completely, because I switched it off. Silence, still. Dutch rubbed his eyes, Micah shook his head in confusion. And I, I held out the phone to Dutch in case he wanted to put it back. But he didn't accept it.  
"You wanna make us believe" Micah suddenly began, "that you are from 2019?"  
"You wanted to know who I am and where I come from. You wanted to hear why I know so much. I showed you. Any idea what else to do? Turn me upside down?” Dutch slumped onto his bed without a word. Still silent. He seemed completely overwhelmed and I was almost sorry. "Photographs are not witchcraft." It wasn't rocket science, it was just a technique that was foreign to them. "I'm not from here." However, I hadn't told them where I knew them from. I didn't want to completely destroy her belief in the laws of nature. I told the two I knew them because they were historically valuable. I didn’t know if they could handle to be just some weird game characters and therefore not real at all. Dutch didn't even seem to be able to handle my little photo show.  
"She has to go, Dutch."  
"What?" I asked, turning to Micah, who was pointing his index finger at me.  
"She has to go."  
Dutch rubbed his forehead. What was going on in his head? "Wasn't it exactly what you wanted to know? From the beginning? The truth?” I spoke to the gang leader, who had become so speechless.  
"Something's wrong," Micah continued, absentmindedly.  
"I’m not lying!"  
"This is..."  
"Shut up, both of you!" Dutch looked at us. His words were incredibly calm - almost too calm - yet severe enough to silence Micah immediately. "I have to think."  
"About what, Dutch?!"  
"Micah!" He said angrily at him now. "Take her with you. Get out of my sight for a moment...” He looked away and picked up his book as if nothing had happened. Was he now questioning the meaning of life? I wanted to crawl into his head and check. The silence that emanated from him frightened me. Was he just in shock?  
"I'm not going anywhere with her…"  
Dutch stood up, the book fell to the floor and he actually grabbed Micah by the collar. "Go now!" He pushed the other man away from him vigorously. Startled by this sudden outbreak, I backed away. Micah grabbed my forearm hard to pull me out of the tent.

#### Arthur

  
The girl had been right. The old man had neither our money nor anything else of value. And yes, he was sick. No idea if it was really tuberculosis that was slowly taking him away, but I had been careful. As carefully as possible. How did Emma know all these things? I couldn't make sense of it and at some point I didn't want to. So far, her “visions” had been helpful and all of them had come true. Maybe she was lucky, maybe she only guessed into the blue, maybe, maybe, maybe.  
I reached the camp empty-handed, got off my horse and wanted to go to my tent. I could still deal with Strauss tomorrow. Even if there wasn't much to tell. We’ll never see the money again, certainly not. Unless the rancher sold all of his belongings. Didn't we plan to take from the rich? With a sigh I lit a cigarette and headed straight for my tent. The space in front of my tent was empty, Emma was not there. Grimshaw had certainly shipped her to the other ladies.  
On my way I passed the Dutch’ tent. He shot straight out of it and I looked at him in surprise. He looked... somehow worn out? "Did something happen?" I asked. Dutch opened his mouth, but closed it immediately. He looked around as if he was afraid of being overheard before grabbing my arm. He led me into his tent and chased Molly away with a few unfriendly words. The young woman fled and I just looked at him. Why was he acting so strange? "What's wrong?" I asked. His eyes looked confused, the posture tense, the hands agile. Was he drunk? I frowned.  
"It's about the little one, Emma."  
"What about her?" And what Dutch then told me... he must have completely lost his mind. He was talking about the future. He said she was a time traveler or even an angel who came to protect us. I didn't really understand half of it. Everything he said seemed completely mixed up. I didn't understand what he was trying to explain to me and whether there was any danger. He spoke of her black thing, photos and absurd things I had never heard of. All in all, the old Dutch was completely off track and I was about to offer him a strong drink. What had happened? Hadn't I been away that long?  
"Do you understand Arthur? She has traveled through time! To us!"  
I shook my head. "No, I don't understand." I admitted honestly. "What's going on?" He paced up and down in front of me. "Chill out."  
Dutch laughed. "How can you not understand?" He ran a hand through his hair, which he must have done many times today, because his hair was not as smooth as usual.  
"Because it doesn't make sense to me. Who is from the future? "  
"Emma! She showed me. She showed everything to me and Micah. She knows all these things about us.” With every word from his mouth, everything made even less sense. Right now I was really doubting his mind and wondering where Hosea was. He was the voice of reason in this camp and Dutch seemed to have lost his mind. I had never seen him like this before, not even after Blackwater. He had changed, but this... this wasn't Dutch van der Linde. It was a faint image of him that spoke confused and looked desperate because I couldn't understand it.  
"What about her?" And what did Micah have to do with it?  
"Don't you listen to me, son!" He stared at me.  
"I try." But it just didn't make any sense. There were no such thing as time travelers. I had just partially resigned myself to dismiss her as a fortune teller and now Dutch came to me with time travel? Had I fallen off my horse while riding and hit my damn head? Was I lying on the floor somewhere dazed and imagined this crap? "Where is she?"  
"With Micah."  
"Micah?" It occurred to me that I hadn't even seen Baylock standing with the other horses. "He is not here."  
Dutch opened his eyes wide and went out of his tent. He ran through camp hectically, far too hectic for his standards. I carefully followed him. No matter who Dutch asked. Nobody had seen Micah. Nobody knew where he was or where Emma was. My gut feeling told me something bad had happened. Dutch paused and looked at me. "Find her."  
"What's going on here, dammit?!" I still didn't understand.  
"Arthur, find them both!" He didn't seem to want to explain it to me again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've made some mistakes in translating... sorry about that.


	4. Chapter 4 – You‘re like a curse!

#### North of Valentine  
Micah

The night devoured us almost completely and nobody could see the tied up human behind me. I had gagged her right before we passed Valentine because she started screaming like shit. Now she just fidgeted and almost fell off my horse. I was sure she was no good and I didn't want her near me, no matter how much she had fooled Dutch. Did he really believe her? Did I believe her?  
Baylock jumped aside and I punched Emma. "Stop it, woman!" I hissed at her and didn’t care if I hurt her or not. Maybe I should have shot her just outside the camp, spread her brains all over the field. She had to go. I didn't give a shit if it made Dutch resent me. This devilish woman had no business in our camp.  
She had stopped moving around, I praised Baylock and continued riding into the dark. We had already left Valentine far behind. In front of us was nothing but endless country and still nobody followed us. Probably nobody noticed that I was gone. I grinned and urged my horse to go even faster. I didn't give a damn if she choked on her gag. If so I would dump her body somewhere for the wolves to eat. My main goal was to end her babbling about the future. I couldn't even say what exactly bothered me. I wanted to solve a problem Dutch was unwilling to. I did not care about her at all.  
I left the path and rode deeper into the wasteland with her. Nobody should find her. Nobody. After a while I stopped Baylock and got out of my saddle. The next moment I tore her off his back and let her hit the floor. She gasped for air as she landed directly on her chest. I kicked her in the back, turned her around and took the gag out of her mouth. She coughed, gasped, and rolled over on her side but I put one foot on her chest to push her back. "P... p-please..." she groaned and started to sob miserably. I grimaced and knelt, one of my knees still pressing against her chest. "P-please... don’t."  
"What, darling?" I grabbed her chin. "Mmh?"  
"You... you don't have to do that."  
I slapped her in the face. Her head fell to the side. "Oh but I want to. Dutch may not have the guts to... but I do.” Nobody could hear her out here. We were too far away from civilization. The only one who might could hear her were animals.  
"I... I'm sorry." she whimpered.  
I gripped her chin again. "Too bad... such a pretty thing." I shook my head slightly, a grin gracing my lips. Then I abruptly let go of her to straighten up again. I kicked her in the stomach, she started coughing again. "I almost believed your fortune teller bullshit.” But time travel? I didn't care about what she showed us. She looked like a wolf in sheep’s clothing to me, she was nothing but a danger in our inner circle. My life was more important to me than hers. Her life meant nothing to me and she didn’t contributed anything to the community. An unnecessary mouth that we had to fill. A mouth full of lies, stories and half-truths. Seeing her sobbing and begging gave me a kind of satisfaction.  
I leaned down to her and cut the bonds on her wrists. She immediately put one arm on her stomach. Her other hand waved aimlessly in the air before she got hold of my boot. She reached up and held onto my leg. "Please..." she begged breathlessly. I laughed and shook her hand off. I pulled out my revolver and pressed the barrel against her forehead. She narrowed her eyes and whimpered incomprehensible words.

#### Emma

My whole body trembled with fear. I felt the gun he pressed against my forehead and prayed to God. I had never been much of a believer in my life, but at this very moment I couldn't help myself. If the Almighty really existed, he needed to hear and save me. I didn't want to die lying here in the dirt, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, far from home, even far from my own timeline. Micah laughed and I didn't dare to touch his hand that held the revolver. What had I done to this man? Hadn't he wanted to hear the whole truth?  
Nobody knew where I was. Micah had dragged me away further from camp after talking to Dutch and nobody had seen us. I was stiff with fear. Micah had pushed me against a tree and stood up in front of me. And then everything around me had turned to black. The way my head pounded, I suspected that he had knocked me down to throw me on his horse. Tied up like a package.  
Now I was lying on the floor in front of him and he seemed to clearly enjoy torturing me. My heart beat up to my neck, I was not able to get a clear thought. I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I really should’ve taken the self defense course my sister had tried to persuade me to. But I had refused. I heard a click as he pulled the trigger and winced. I cried out, but I didn't die. I opened my eyes and saw him standing grinning above me. His gun wasn’t loaded. "Good night, darling." He kicked my head and everything went black again.

***

"What's that?"  
"There is someone... a woman!"  
"Is she alive?"  
"No idea. Someone got her pretty bad.”  
"Check if she's still breathing."  
The babble of voices reached me. Slowly, very slowly the veil of heaviness that had surrounded me after the kick lifted. I blinked, stars danced before my eyes and a dark figure leaned over me. "She’s alive!" It was clearly a man. His breath stank of cigarettes and alcohol. I whimpered softly, I couldn't do more. Everything felt heavy. My arms and legs didn't listen to me. I weakly raised a hand and tried to reach for someone or something. But I only reached into the void.  
"Throw her on the horse. Colm will be happy.” I faintly remembered this name. But my aching head didn't want to put two and two together. I just felt that I couldn't let these men take me away. My body reacted and I hit the man who was trying to grab me. I hit him somewhere. The other men laughed in the background, the dark figure was swearing.  
"A real feisty one." one man shouted and I turned on my stomach. My legs were still tied together at the ankles. I crawled forward, my fingers clawing into the ground until I felt the man reach for my arms. I heard a scream that clearly came from me. He put my arms behind my back, like a police officer would do. I was tied up again with a hard rope. It cut my skin and he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and carried me away. I landed on horseback again and my strength left me. The images blurred into an unrecognizable pulp before everything went black.

#### North of Valentine  
Arthur

Where had that bastard ridden with her? It was past midnight and I still had no idea where to look. I just kept riding, keeping my eyes open and trying to think like Micah. What if he had already shot and dumped her somewhere? If he was smart, he would avoid the camp now. Dutch was angry. He wanted her back, even if I still didn't quite understand what had happened. But did I really have to? I wanted to save her the way she might have saved me. And the way she saved Micah indirectly. That bastard!  
I didn't know how much time she had left. What was he up to? Since Strawberry he had proven to me that he was willing to do anything. We got rid of half the prosecution just because he was freaking out. Oh, if I found this son of a bitch... I still don't understand why Dutch tolerated him. He was a danger and caused trouble, even if we should avoid it. Especially now we couldn't use unwanted attention, not after the Blackwater.  
Was Emma really a time traveler from the future? Could there really be such a thing? I had seen many things in my life and met many strange people, but that seemed too absurd. Everything that surrounded her didn't make the slightest sense to me. I didn't understand a lot of what she said, nor did I understand Dutch. Still, I saw no danger in her. She could have betrayed us a long time ago if she had felt like it. She had offered to help us and now Micah was taking her elsewhere. I had to find both of them. I finally wanted kill this man. He was crossed a clear line and even opposed Dutch. Dutch hadn’t told him to get rid of her, his plan with her were different. Micah was only loyal to himself.

#### Hanging Dog Ranch  
Emma

A headache was the first thing I felt. I blinked and opened my eyes, my head hung limply on my chest and I found myself in a sitting position. I sat in a chair, my wrists were tied to the armrests, my legs were free. I raised my head weakly. The room was dark with not much in it but a two chairs, a table and a closet in the back. There was an oil lamp on the table. I coughed and spat blood on the wooden floorboards in front of me. Where had I ended up? Everything hurt. Everything was spinning in my head and I felt sick. Where was Micah? It took me awhile to remember the strange men and their voices.  
Slowly, then more and more clearly, a name came through my mind, Colm. My heart beat faster and I shook my bonds, causing the rope to cut my skin even more. Colm O'Driscoll. My heart was pounding as I came back to life. Had the stranger really said his name? Maybe he meant a complete different Colm. O’Driscoll couldn’t be the only one around here with that name. In my current situation, I didn't know which one was better. A known evil was better sometimes. I tried to look around, there was a window behind me.  
I put both feet on the floor, lifted the chair up and turned around. Outside I could see a campfire and men, many of them. Apparently I was in the middle of the O'Driscolls camp. I had to get out of here. Maybe the chair broke when I threw myself on the floor with it. But what if it didn't? I was able to move around partially while sitting. Voices approached the room where I was sitting and light shone through the door. The door was to my left and I hadn’t even noticed it before. I quickly turned back into my original position as the door opened. “She’s awake!” Oh hell no! It was Colm, the one I already knew. He carried a second oil lamp with him as he entered the room.  
I just stared at him. He closed the wooden door behind him and came closer. Holding the lamp next to my face, he eyed me. "You seem to have annoyed someone pretty much, Miss." I felt that my lip was swollen and the area around my eyes too. "And who may that have been?"  
"Nobody." I said quietly. My voice didn't obey me. My throat was dry and I was incredibly thirsty.  
"Nobody?" He smiled, raised his eyebrows and put the oil lamp on the floor. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You're thirsty, huh?" His friendliness unsettled me. I vaguely remembered a quote from Kieran: "When he talks to you nicely, it's like the sun is shining and when he's mad at you, it's like the devil is upon you."  
"Yes." I answered. I didn't want to give him any reason to get angry with me. Micahs assault was enough for one day. All my limbs hurt, but nothing seemed broken. Only my head worried me. The whole time I felt sick and black spots danced in front of my eyes. Were they concussion symptoms? Colm nodded and went to the door. He stuck his head out briefly and called to one of his subordinates. "Get her something to drink!" He then turned to me with a smile. "You really don't have to be afraid of me, Miss. What's your name?"  
"Emma."  
He went around the chair, stopped behind me and I felt really uncomfortable. I tried to look over my shoulder. Did he wanted to cut my throat and let me bleed to death? I saw a blade flash and gave a sharp cry. He leaned down, very close to my right ear. "Sssh. Don't worry, Emma.” He put an arm around me and showed me the hunting knife. "Nobody will hurt you." I watched him closely as he led the knife first to the right and then to the left armrest to cut the rope. I even held my breath. Only when he moved away from me I did let air flow into my lungs again.  
The door opened and a man came in with a mug. "Here, boss." He handed the mug to his boss and was allowed to go. And Colm? He came up to me again and gave it to me. I looked into the mug, it looked like water. Poisoned?  
"You can drink it." He seemed to be able to read my mind.  
Thirst prevailed over my bad gut feeling and I drank. Hastily and a little too quickly, because I choked and coughed. "Th-thanks."  
"Who did this to you?"  
It would be a pleasure to tell him about Micah Bell, so that they could find and kill him. But I didn’t want to risk the lives of the others by giving out information to their arch enemy. "My husband." I lied.  
"Why?"  
I didn't know why Micah had done it all. Maybe shock? All the information I had given them might have overwhelmed him. Even Dutch had been completely off track after our conversation. It was not easy to understand what was going on here. For nobody. Not for me and not for the Van der Linde gang. "I... I don't know."  
"Did you cheat on him?" I shook my head.  
"What are you going to do with me?"  
"We'll see." He picked up the oil lamp and seemed about to say something else, but was interrupted by a tumult outside. The door opened again and the man from earlier entered. "What is it?" Colm didn't sound so friendly anymore and I slowly understood what Kieran meant. He just flipped a switch.  
"You'll like that, boss! One of Dutch’ people ran into us!” said the man triumphantly. Colm started to grin as I wondered which poor bastard they had picked up. Hopefully it wasn't Arthur! Had he noticed my disappearance at all? Did Dutch want me back? Maybe Micah had made up a crazy story of a spectacular escape? Colm looked at me.  
"You will stay here for the time being. William here will be happy to keep an eye on you." He stepped closer to William. "You're welcome to look at her, Bill. But you will keep your fingers off of her. Do you understand?”  
"Sure, boss." Colm left me alone with William while he was taking care of the new arrival. I went to the window and looked out, but couldn't see anyone. The only thing I could see was how they dragged an unconscious man into a basement. Colm followed. "Someone you know?" William asked suddenly and I turned to him.  
"No."  
"You sure? You look kinda worried.” He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall.  
"Maybe because I'm surrounded by criminals?"  
"Pretty sassy. I like that.” He laughed.

***

I was sitting on the floor below the window. William had taken the chair out of the middle of the room, sat next to the door and seemed to be asleep. His hat hung low in his face, his chin was on his chest, his legs stretched out and his hands clasped on his stomach. Every now and then he snored. I pulled my knees up against my torso. He carried a revolver on the right. I tried to figure out what my chances were of sneaking past him. The door was not locked. At least I had never heard anyone turn a key. Was there a lock at all?  
It was slowly getting lighter outside. The sun rose and the first rays of sunshine came through the window. I could see the dust particles dancing in the glow. It was quiet outside and Colm hadn’t visited again. I suspected he was sleeping. Like my guard. Did I really want to wait and see what they were up to? I mistrusted Colm even more than Micah. Micah at least didn't hide his aversion to me. He was honest on this point. Colm, however. I found it difficult to assess him. In the game itself, he hadn't appeared often enough to really judge him.  
William snored again. I couldn’t sleep. My body was on high alert and the headache got really bad. After all I didn’t vomit. A good sign? A good sign? I stroked the fabric of Tilly's dress. It was very, very dirty now. Dirt, grass stains, blood. Hopefully she didn't got mad at me. William made a grunt but didn't wake up.  
I rose quietly and looked out of the window. My last two attempts to escape were unsuccessful. And I was certain that I had never been in serious danger with the Van der Linde gang. It was different here. The gang was considerably larger and cruel. Even their dealings with each other spoke for themselves. They all wanted power and money, obeyed Colm and did indescribable things.  
I looked at William, whose mouth was slightly open. The only thing missing was that he drooled. What now? Either I crept past him and tried to open door or...? I took a closer look at the window. You couldn't open it. It was just there so you could look out. It had no other purpose. If I hit it, William would surely be woken up by the noise. I only had one way out of here. I carefully put one foot in front of the other. The floorboards creaked. I looked at William all the time, who was still snoring softly. I came closer and closer to him and when I was almost standing next to him I looked at his revolver.  
I reached out and touched it, thinking about taking it. But what did I want to do with it? I had never held a gun in my own hands. I didn’t know how to aim and hit a target safely. That was a stupid idea. Instead of stealing the revolver, I locked the doorknob. I made every movement as slowly and quiet as I could. I didn't want to make any noise so as not to disturb his sleep. Quiet as a cat, that's how I had to behave.  
After carefully opening the door a bit, I looked out. In front of me was another, much larger room. In the middle was a round table with playing cards on it, around it four wooden chairs and empty bottles. There were shelves on the walls further back, but there wasn't much else to discover. It was much more important that the room was empty and I saw a way out. Right across was a half-open door that led out. However, I couldn't make out what lay behind, or rather, was maybe lurking for me.  
In the meantime, I had opened the door even further and took another look at William, who giggled softly. Hopefully he was dreaming something funny and didn't laugh because he wanted to jump right at me. I took a deep breath and sneaked out of the room. With every further step on the creaking floorboards, I turned and looked back. But William didn't storm towards me. Slowly but surely I came closer to my freedom until I heard voices. Startled, I crouched down so that I wouldn't be seen through one of the windows. "Please don't..." I whispered softly. Maybe I should’ve taken the gun. I could at least have threatened someone with it. I didn't want to shoot anyone. The voices came closer. What now? Go back? I crouched in the middle of the room, next to the round table. The voices softened again and I breathed a sigh of relief. The men had passed the building.  
I continued my way. The door was not far away.  
"HEY!" I spun around. William stood in the doorway, holding the revolver and stared at me. "Where do you think your going?" I didn't wait, I rushed forward. A bullet whizzed through the air and narrowly missed me. I stumbled out of the door to fall right into Colm's open arms. He looked down at me before I pushed myself away from him. The bullet had also missed him. "Are you all right, boss?" William asked, who had noticed his mistake.  
Colm held me by one arm. I didn't want my escape to end now. Not again. Colm ignored the other man and looked at me with cold eyes. "You want to leave us? We still had no way to get to know each other better." I hated how he emphasized the word 'closer'. And I hated his disgusting grin.  
"L-let me go..." I begged.  
"I think we have to find another place for her to stay, William." He just ignored my words. "Why don't you take the her to our other guest, mh? But this time" He looked at the other intently "you will make sure that she doesn't leave us again. Can you do it or do I have to take care of it myself? "  
William was now in front of us. "No, boss. I can do it. "  
"Good." He pushed me into the arms of William, who gripped me tightly by both arms. "Too bad you don't appreciate our friendliness." Colm shook his head before moving on. William dragged me with him. Away from the little hut that had just been my dungeon and over to the basement.

#### Horseshoe Overlook  
Arthur

I reached the camp when the sun was rising. I had spent the whole night on my horse's back and slowly my body longed for a rest. I also didn't know where else to look. I hadn’t found a trace of Emma nor Micah. They were both gone. I was sure that this bastard still had her, but I didn't want to imagine what he was doing to her.  
Dutch was the first to notice me. "Oh Arthur!" He said and came up to me. He no longer looked as confused as a few hours ago. "You didn't find her?" It was a question that sounded much more like an accusation.  
"No, Dutch." I swung out of the saddle. The ground felt strange under my feet. Why did he blame me? I had spent the whole night looking for her while he was sitting here in camp. I rarely questioned his decisions but unfortunately there have been a lot of moments in which I should have. "How could you leave her alone with him?"  
"How could I know Micah wanted to kidnap her, Arthur!" Dutch frowned. I snorted angrily.  
"He's dangerous, Dutch." I walked past him and just wanted to lie down.  
"Where are you going?"  
"To bed!"  
"We have to find them!"  
I turned halfway. "I did everything I could." I tore my arms up in frustration at my own words. What did he expect me to do? "What else should I do?"  
“Don't you understand how important she could be for us? With her knowledge from the future, everything could change for us! We need her.” And there was the crazy ramble about the future again. First she was said to be a fortune teller, now a time traveler. I still couldn't understand how Dutch came to this conclusion. It just couldn't be possible! I waved my hand and turned away. "Arthur!"  
"I can check around Valentine." said Uncle out of a sudden. He went to the Dutch while I kept moving away. I urgently needed sleep, I couldn’t hardly concentrate anymore. "John and I want to run some errands." I heard Uncle say before I threw myself on my bed.

#### Dutch

Why couldn't Arthur understand it? She knew our future. Knew where our current path led us to. I felt that she was important to us. Sent from God like a guardian angel to help us. Arthur couldn't understand it because he hadn’t seen the pictures. He didn't know any better and yet his words hurt me. I knew his dislikes about Micah, but this man had saved my life once. He was part of the group, even if he had made a big mistake now. I didn't know if I could ever forgive him. My eyes went to Uncle. "Keep your eyes and ears open. As soon as you find something, you come back and report. Do you understand that?” Uncle nodded eagerly. "Marston!" John was putting a list into his pocket that Abigail had given him.  
"Yes, Dutch?"  
"Try to find out where Micah and Emma are. Maybe some farmer saw something. I don't care how, but we need clues.” Then I stepped closer to John so the others wouldn't hear my words. "Bring Micah back to me alive." I wanted to punish him for his gross mistake. Even if I did not yet agree on the extent of the punishment.  
"All right." John nodded. "You ready, Uncle?" He was already turning to go, Uncle rubbed his back and hurried after the other outlaw. I watched them go and hoped they could find out something. Something. Even if it was just a rough direction in which Micah had disappeared. No matter. I needed this girl.  
"Not so fast, boy. Lumbago is not to be trifled with!” I heard Uncle croak while John was already sitting on the trestle of the wagon. I was on my way to see Arthur. I felt that there was something between us. He was angry, even though I always wanted the best for us all. Didn't he see that?  
Arthur was stretched out on his bed, hat pulled down over his face, one leg bent. "Arthur. We need to talk."  
He raised an arm and pushed the hat off his face. "About what, Dutch?"  
"You have to understand what is at stake here. It sounds crazy, but if you had seen what I saw you could understand me."  
"But I didn’t. Do you really believe in time travelers now? "  
“There are a lot of crazy things going on in this world. How do you explain all her knowledge? I think with her help we can achieve anything we ever wanted to achieve. Yes, even Tahiti!” A dream that I was not ready to give up on. We needed a fresh start. A place where we had a clean slate and the Pinkertons couldn't find us.  
Arthur sat up. "I've been looking for them everywhere. I...” He sighed heavily. "I just cannot understand how you could leave her in Micah's care, Dutch."  
"I had to think." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Micah is not our enemy."  
"Really?" A hoarse laugh escaped his throat.  
"Do not worry. He'll get his punishment as soon as I get my hands on him. But at the time I had no idea what he was up to!”  
"What should we do?"  
"Have a little trust, son. Everything will come together.” I hoped Uncle and John could find out something. "Do you trust me?"  
Arthur rubbed his forehead. "Yes, Dutch. Of course.”  
"We'll find her. Both of them.” I squeezed his shoulder briefly.

#### Hanging Dog Ranch  
Emma

William dragged me with him. It was pretty useless to fight back. He was stronger and I was still badly hurt by Micah's attack. My headache got worse and worse and the sun was burning in my eyes. It was way too bright! "Come on!" He muttered, pushing me in front of him now. He pushed me, drove me on like an animal until we stood at a door. No, it wasn't really a door. It was a wooden hatch that led down to the basement. "Open up." I obeyed and pulled the two hatches to the sides. In front of me was a staircase that led down into the dark. The sun was just shining to the lowest level.  
"I... please..." I didn't want to go down there. I preferred to be tied to the chair again. William grunted and gave me a little push. He seemed to see it differently.  
"Come on, go ahead. Get down there.” It was dark, it was damp and there was a musty smell in the air that mingled with the scent of blood. Everything in me was reluctant to go down there. But William gave me no choice. Once at the bottom, my eyes had to get used to the sudden darkness. At first I didn't notice anything, then slowly the first contours and shadows. And noises. I wasn't alone down here. Hours ago they had brought someone else here. I prayed for Arthur. William pulled out a rope. "Hands." I let him do it. He tied my wrists together. "Well, do you like your new home, little Miss?" He asked with a dirty grin. "Further."  
I continued my way into the basement. At the back, I could see a human figure on a pole. He sat slumped together, apparently tied to the post and that's where I was supposed to go as well. William pushed me and I would have loved to hit him for that. "Turn around." he ordered when I was standing next to the pole. "And sit down." I slid down, felt the wood on my back. The other prisoner was sitting behind me so I couldn't see him. And then William tied me to the post with the rope dangling from my wrists. "Have fun, you two." Satisfied with his own work, he let go of me and kicked the prisoner. "Hey, you got company." First a laugh and then William spit at my fellow sufferer's feet before leaving us alone down here.  
I immediately pulled on the rope, trying to free my hands somehow. The man behind me didn't move. I didn't even hear if he was still breathing. "Hey, are you still alive?" I bumped him with my elbow and slowly he stirred, seeming to regain consciousness. "Hello?"  
"Nice to see ya again, witch..." whispered a far too familiar voice. Micah coughed. My body stiffened and pictures of our last meeting flickered through my mind. I narrowed my eyes tightly and tried not to think about how he pressed his gun against my forehead.  
"Oh fuck." I groaned. Of all possible characters, I was trapped with Micah Bell of all people.  
"I'm happy too." Micah now also tugged on his bonds. His arms, like mine, were behind his back, wrists tied together and then attached to the post. His hand touched mine and I clenched a fist. "What now, honey?"  
"I'm not talking to you." He laughed.  
"Unforgiving, eh?" I ignored him and looked around. My eyes became more and more accustomed to the poor lighting conditions. There was even a small, barred window to the outside world. Too small to fit through, but at least it gave some light. I discovered boxes, chairs and shelves that were fixed to the walls, filled with cans. "Any shitty vision of our future?" he asked.  
An empty bottle lay on the floor not far from me. "No."  
"Of course not." He was happy to keep his sarcasm to himself. I stretched out my left leg and tried to reach the bottle. Inevitably I had to sit back and get closer to him. Our shoulders touched as I stretched out. "What are you doing?" I didn't answer, instead I pulled my leg back and used my other foot to force my shoe off. If I were more flexible, I could even use my mouth to brush the sock off my left foot. But I didn't even get to my tiptoes without being tied up when I leaned forward. "Hey!"  
"Be quiet." I stretched out my leg again and tried to grab the bottle with my toes. It would really be easier without a sock. "I have to concentrate." And he wasn't exactly helpful. Micah tugged on his bonds again.  
The cellar hatches opened. I jerked my leg back and sat cross-legged. As long as nobody was wondering why my shoe was lying in front of me, nobody should suspect anything. Someone went down the stairs to the basement, holding a light in his hand. Colm had had the oil lamp with him the last time we met. What did he want? Or rather, from whom did he want something?  
"Micah" He put the oil lamp on the floor and looked down at him. "Did you have enough time to think about my little offer?"  
"Go to hell, O'Driscoll!" Which offer? I looked over my shoulder at the gang boss who was laughing at Micah's answer. Shabby and dirty. Colm approached him and punched him in the face with his fist. Micah spat blood on the floor and what looked like a tooth. "You miserable son of a bitch!"  
"What? You want more?” Colm struck again. And again. Micah coughed. I looked away, staring at the bottle that was so close yet so far. "I offer you the opportunity to get away with your life.”  
"I don't do business with a damn O'Driscoll. I'd rather have my balls cut off!” Colm's fist shot forward again. Harder than the times before. I heard it crack and I sensed that it was his nose that was being broken. I was troubled. And Micah didn’t stop.  
"That’s all ya got?!", he hissed, coughing and gasping for Colm, who was wiping the blood off his ankles.  
"Micah, just shut up!" It broke out of me and I was furiously hissed at by my fellow sufferer. I didn’t understand what he was trying to tell me. But I felt like I made a big mistake. The gang leader had become alert and went around the stake. Looked at me and grinned that ominous grin.  
"You know each other?"

#### Micah

How could a woman be so stupid?! Colm stood next to us with a big grin on his face as she stuttered. “I… I’ve never… seen him before...” I wanted to hit her in the face again. She couldn't ride, cook and apparently didn't know when to shut up! Colm knelt down beside her and gripped her chin with his fingers, turning her gaze to her. "If I can't stand one thing, it's liars." His voice was cold and I could hear Emma swallowing. I sensed that this was just the beginning. Colm smelled a fuse.  
I laughed softly into myself. "It won't help ya."  
"And why?"  
"Wanna know why she’s all messed up?” I couldn't hide my pride. I only regretted not having put a bullet in her head. Maybe he did it for me.  
"You don’t care what I do to her?" Colm looked at me before he slapped her without taking his eyes off me.  
"Correct." I heard the witch sob.


	5. Chapter 5 - I'll save your ass.

#### Horseshoe Overlook  
Arthur

  
"Arthur! Arthur!” Uncle came towards me, excited and out of breath. John followed him. I looked at the old man, who smelled like a whole bottle of whiskey, but his excitement gave me hope. Either there had been trouble or they had information's regarding Emma and Micah. I was hoping for some good news, but a glance at John's face was enough to make my hope fade. Admittedly, John was not one to express his feelings freely. Something I could understand. It wasn't always good if everyone could read you like an open book. Some things are better kept hidden. Or, as in my case, in a diary.  
Dutch came out of his tent as soon as he saw John pass by. "Did you find something out?"  
"WE didn't find anything." John snorted. "I found something."  
"Come on, I wasn't that useless."  
"You were in the saloon. The whole time!"  
"I kept my eyes and ears open. You know, drunks don't just talk stupid stuff. "  
I cleared my throat, even though this spectacle was usually very amusing. "What did you find out, John?" Uncle grimaced in disappointment.  
"Two O'Driscolls were in Valentine."  
"I hope you didn't do anything stupid." Dutch said.  
"We were just talking." I had a feeling that there was more to it. His bruised knuckles of his right hand told a different story. "They got Micah and maybe Emma too. At least one of them told me about a woman.”  
"And where?" Dutch.  
"They weren’t so sure about that. Cumberland Forest or the Hanging Dog Ranch near Little Creek River.” John shrugged.  
"The ranch sounds very specific." Dutch rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Arthur. You, John and Charles go and take a look. Javier and Bill will go to Cumberland Forest. If they are at one of the locations, we’ll find them. Bring them both back… alive. You understand?” Both of them? I didn’t want to save Micahs damn life again. I sighed and nodded. "What about the two O'Driscolls?" He turned to John.  
"They won't be a problem anymore, Dutch."  
"So what are you waiting for? Go!" Dutch turned away from us and called for Javier and Bill.  


#### Hanging Dog Ranch  
Micah

Colm had left. Emma was laying on the ground with her hands still tied together. Almost lifeless but I saw that she was still breathing. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open and her hair was sticking to her bloodstained face. She looked miserable, more dead than alive. And I would be lying if I said I didn't like the sight of it. "Witch, hey! Wake up." I tried to reach her with my foot to give her a kick. But she was too far away. I didn't know how long Colm would be away. Maybe he would come back to try his latest torture methods on her. She had only got to know his fists yet, but there were other ways to break a man, or a woman. "Come on, open your eyes!" But of course she didn't react, continued to nap.  
I tugged at my bonds like a madman, my wrists felt sore. It was a miserable attempt. I started feeling for something sharp on the pole behind me with my hands. Nothing. Maybe I could get up? I pulled my legs to myself, pressed my shoulders back against the post, trying to push myself up. But my ass didn't move an inch. I tried to keep puffing, but it didn't work. New plan, Bell! Think!  
I positioned myself differently. First cross-legged, while leaning forward as far as I could and finally I sat on both of my knees. So far so good! It would be much easier with her help, but the little Miss was still not moving. I held onto the post with both hands, first raised one leg and then pushed myself up piece by piece. I stood.  
The cellar hatches opened and the sun lit up the stairs. I didn't want to sit down, otherwise I wouldn't get my ass up again. I sure as hell couldn't get the right angle back. Someone came down the stairs, whistling cheerfully but it wasn't Colm. It was one of his stupid henchmen. The bald man paid no attention to me, his attention was only on her. The guy nudged Emma with his foot. "Get up, sweetie. The boss is waiting for you.” He looked at me and winked. Oh, I knew what that meant.  
If I wasn't chatting and telling him where Dutch's camp was, maybe she would when he was done with her. I had to prevent that. "Dumbfuck, keep yer hands off her."  
"What do you want?"  
"Keep your hands of her."  
"How are you going to stop me?" He laughed at me. I grinned.  
"Come on over and we'll sort it out like real men." He waved his hand and bent down to pick her up. "Oh, do ya have to ask for Colm's permission first? Ya can’t take a shit without him allowing ya to? Can’t ya make your own decision? Well, what else to expect from an O'Driscolls…” I clicked my tongue and leaned my head back.  
He groaned in annoyance and straightened up again. "You should keep your mouth shut."  
"Why? You won't do anything without him telling ya to. "  
"One more word..." He raised his fist threateningly.  
"So what? Are you telling Colm about me pissing you off?” This time I was laughing at him and that seemed to be enough. It was certainly enough to make his face turn red. He came up to me and hit me in my stomach. My laugh got stuck in my throat for a moment. "That’s all?" I asked and spat on his face.   
"I'm just getting started, you son of a bitch." The second he tried to hit me again, I held onto the post behind me, pressed my back against it and pulled my leg up to kick him against his chest. He stumbled backwards, fell over Emma and landed on the ground.  
"Haha! Ha! Miserable!” I called out with a roaring laugh, in order to get him even more upset. I wanted this son of a bitch to hate me. Wanted to make his blood boil and I seemed to be successful. He jumped back to his feet and pulled out a knife. He ran towards me and I was able to kick the knife out of his hands. It landed a few feet from her.   
"You fucking...!" He grabbed my collar and I took the opportunity. I jerked my head forward, thundering hard against his skull. A dull ache shot through my head, but it worked. His grip suddenly went limp, he staggered back, stared at me with empty eyes and fell.  
"Shit..." I narrowed my eyes. "Witch!" I called out. "Wake up! Emma, dammit!”I didn't know for how long I had knocked him out. "Emma!" I felt something sharp with my hands like a nail. I raised my arms and rubbed the rope over it. Again and again.

#### Emma

"Emma!" Someone called my name. Over and over again. I forced myself to open my eyes. Everything hurt. Everything around me spinned like a carousel. And I hated carousels, they always made me sick... just like right now. I choked, but didn't vomit. I pulled my arms out from under me and braced myself on both forearms. My hair was sticking to my face, I could taste blood. Everything looked distorted, blurry, as if I had drunk too much.  
I rested my forehead on the cold floor, coughed violently and wanted to return to unconsciousness. "EMMA!" Louder, more demanding. I raised my head again, looked aside. A man was lying on his back next to me. Arms outstretched on both sides. Behind it I could see Micah, who was no longer sitting but standing. He called my name. "Get up!" I pushed myself into a half-sitting, half-lying position. My body didn't want to obey me. Arms heavy as fuck, a hammering pain in my skull. And this nausea. Definitely a concussion. "Take the knife, dammit!" Knife?  
I straightened up, leaning forward with both hands. Just don't throw up, please don't. I shook my head, causing black spots to dance before my eyes. The man on the floor groaned in agony. "Take it!" Micah. There was a knife on the floor not far from me that must have belonged to the stranger. No, he wasn't that unknown to me. He looked like William. I crawled to the knife and took it. Now it was just a matter of getting up. I first put up one leg up, then the other and pushed myself back up. I almost lost my balance, but was just able to prevent myself from falling. And suddenly I felt completely sick and vomited. I was surprised that Micah didn't make a nasty comment.  
I turned the knife so the blade was facing my chest and cut the rope around my wrists. My wrists were red and my fingers were prickling. I shook my hands and went to the basement stairs armed with the knife. I wanted to go, I had no other thought at all. Everything seemed swaying and I was worried about getting seasick. I paused and took a deep breath, but the air down here didn't make me feel any better.  
"What are ya doing, witch? Free me!” I heard Micah behind me.  
"Certainly not, asshole." I muttered. He had just watched. Watched wordlessly as Colm had beat me up. What kind of person did that? I lost more and more of my respect (if I ever had one) for him.  
"I just saved your ass!" I didn't know exactly what he meant. My left leg gave up and I stumbled forward, landing on my knees. I didn't know how big my chances were to get out of here. How far could I go? Were guards waiting upstairs? William made more groaning noises and turned sideways, dazed. I looked at him and then at Micah.  
"Come on now!" William rubbed his forehead and swore under his breath. "Come on!" How big were my chances of getting out of here alone? Realistically not very high. I couldn't fight, didn't know the area as well as Micah and my legs didn't want to obey me. My body asked for a break from this ordeal. Why couldn't I just wake up on my couch? This nightmare had to end. William sat up slowly and I ran out of time. I staggered towards Micah, walked around him and also cut his bonds. He immediately took the knife from me and rushed towards William.  
He grabbed his neck with one hand while the other swung the knife and cut his throat. Blood gushed from the wound, William gasped and gripped his neck with both hands. The blood ran between his fingers. Gargling noises, then he fell forward. Landed head-on on his face, twitched and the red pool beneath him grew larger. I was too tired to be shocked. I stood there with one hand on the post and vomited again. The bile burned in my throat.  
Micah wrapped his arm around my waist, supported me and put the knife in my hand. He stole William’s revolver. "If ya pass out, witch, I'll leave ya here." he hissed at me and led me to the stairs. I forced my eyes to stay open because I wanted to get out of here. I wrapped my free arm around Micah’s waist, clinging to him. Under normal conditions, I would never have let him get that close to me (not in 1000 years). But right now he was my only hope. And even if I didn't understand his motives or didn't want to trust him, right now I had to.  
"Don't leave me here, please..." I begged quietly. He just snorted and dragged me up the stairs with him. One of the basement hatches was still open. I could hear voices outside. Some far away, some very close. Micah loosened his grip and carefully peeked outside.  
"As soon as we're up there, ya have to run. Can you do it?” If I didn't want to die here, I had to, so I nodded.  
"Then go!" He actually pushed me ahead. I stumbled up the last two steps and hit the grass right above. Micah followed, looked around and grabbed one of my arms to pull me up again. "That worked great, darling." He pulled me closer again and ran with me. Well, you couldn't call it running. He had to drag me with him and I tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. The sun dazzled me, made my headache worse. I couldn't pass out. Not now, not here.  
We ran right around the building towards a few bushes. Micah suddenly stopped and pushed me into the shadow of the building to which the basement belonged. He left me there, stole my knife and sneaked up to a man with his back turned to us, who was peeing next to the bushes. As before, he cut his throat with a mere gesture. The guy collapsed with his pants open. What a way to die... Micah waved to me and I stumbled in his direction. As I reached him, he wrapped his arm around me again and our escape continued. Past the bushes, past the trees. Until I heard men shouting from behind us. The bodies had been discovered.

#### Micah

Not only the witch had heard it. Colm’s men flocked in all directions to chase us. Certainly also to kill us. I was expecting a damn hail of bullets every moment. There were exactly six bullets in my revolver, I had nothing more to offer. My own weapons had been taken away from me and hidden somewhere else. If she wasn’t so useless, I would have looked for them. But she couldn't even stand on her feet for five seconds straight. Useless, I keep saying it.  
I kept dragging her. The voices behind us grew louder as we got near the river. I could already hear the water rushing. "Faster!" I hissed breathlessly at Emma. She really made this escape unnecessarily difficult. Maybe I should just leave her behind to save my own ass. The voices came closer. Upset, angry. And then there was a loud bang. Bullets flew around both of us and I took cover behind a large rock near the water, half burying her under me. She fought me wildly with her hands. I gave her a light push and then aimed my gun.  
A bullet whizzed into the hard stone right in front of my nose. Startled, I went back behind the rock. "Shit!" I swore loudly. "YOU BITCH!" I roared again and tried again. Emma pressed herself against the rock beside me, breathing frantically, her eyes as big as saucers. It was really a mystery to me that she was still alive. More shots followed and then a pause. My chance! I came out of cover, aimed at the first man I saw and shot him in the head. We both had an advantage, we had a hiding place and the remaining four men had not. Only one tree offered some protection. One of the O'Driscolls threw himself hectically into the grass, I aimed in his direction and must have shot him because he cried out. The others had reloaded in the meantime and the bullets flew in our direction again. I ducked down.  
Suddenly Emma clutched my upper arm with her hand. I looked at her in confusion. "What?" I snapped. I had other worries.  
"I don’t... I don't wanna die."  
"Oh you don't say..." I still had four bullets left. Four bullets and three O'Driscolls. There was another pause in which I ventured a little out of cover. An O'Driscoll hid behind the tree but where were the other two? One of them missed me. They weren't exactly good shooters. I aimed at the man behind the tree and caught him his knee. Roaring, he threw himself to one side and held his leg. Three bullets left. Another peeked out from behind a bush, I fired, but missed. However, he hit my shoulder.  
A pulling pain went through my left side, she gave a startled scream and I leaned against the rock. "Fuck!" Two men still. Only two more. I looked over to the river. To our right he was a bit calmer and seemed to have less water. There were more rocks on the shore. "Ya run over there on the count of three." I instructed Emma, who shook her head.  
"They will shoot me!"  
"Not if I'm faster!" She shook her head again. With a sigh, I turned to face her, holding my shoulder with one hand. "I am a good shooter. You distract these assholes and I'll take care of them. It’s simple. Or I'll kill ya right here, better idea? "  
"N-no."  
"Then move your ass!" Emma took a deep breath. Even closed her eyes - how theatrical. And then she ran. "Zigzag!" I called after her and watched her. Like a deer that didn't know what was happening to it. But it worked. The men shot in her direction and I took the opportunity to get out of cover and shot one of them dead. The last survivor aimed in my direction. We both shot, but I was faster. His shot went blank as mine pierced his chest. He dropped his revolver, put one hand on his chest and fell to his knees. I turned and followed the witch, who was already crouching behind the next rock.  
"What now?" She asked me frantically, gasping for breath. Damn, she was pale!  
"Through the river to the other side." I went ahead, she grabbed my arm and held on to me. Together we got into the cold water that reached our knees. Fish swam past us as we moved to the other side. Every now and then she almost slipped, clutching me more tightly. The stones under our feet were slippery and she wore only one of her shoes. Why the hell? When had she lost the other one? I pulled her out of the water on the other side and then we went on into the forest.

#### Emma

I didn't know how long we had been running through the forest. My thighs were burning, it was hard to breathe and my headache was killing me. I just wanted to lie down and close my eyes. But every time I stopped, Micah kept pushing me until we reached an old hunting lodge. It looked deserted, the windows were blocked, the property overgrown and the roof was half collapsed. We got inside and I immediately sat down, breathing heavily. Everything was spinning. As I gasped, Micah looked around the cabin. Opened the cupboards, searched the back room and returned with a bottle of whiskey and a couple of cans.  
I leaned my back against the wall, my eyes closed and tried to calm down. I could hear my blood rushing and my pulse was still way too high. Meanwhile, Micah took off his jacket, threw it over a chair that had only three legs left and opened his shirt to look at his shoulder. "You are hurt..." I stated the obvious and he rolled his eyes. We were both injured. "May", I lifted myself up, "may I take a look?"  
"Are you familiar with that?"  
"I know a bullet that is still in the wound is a bad thing." I wasn't sure why that was. Maybe because you have to remove the bullet? I went to him, put a hand on his arm and took a closer look at the wound. I clearly saw a bullet hole from which blood oozed. Based on the blood flow, the bullet had certainly not destroyed any larger blood vessels. At least I imagined it bloodier when a main artery was hit. It didn't spurt, it ran gently down his arm. I looked at his back but couldn't find an exit wound.  
"And doctor, what's the verdict?"  
"You will die." I said seriously, looking at him. "No. I don’t know."  
"Well, that was worthless."  
"I think the bullet is still in the wound. Maybe stuck in the bone? "  
"Ya ask me that?"  
"I'm just trying to help!" I let go of him. Micah smiled before grabbing the whiskey. He opened the bottle and took a generous sip before he put his index finger into the entry of the wound. I grimaced in disgust, his face too, but in pain.  
"Shit." He pulled his finger out. "I can feel it. The fucking thing is under my skin.” Or in the fat layer or in his muscle… We were both not very well trained in this field. "You have to get this fucking thing out of my shoulder."  
"Me?"  
"Do ya see anyone else?" Micah sat cross-legged on the floor. I sat down next to him and stared at the hole in his shoulder. "It's not deep in there. Get that thing out. You're going to be able to do that, are ya?”I really wasn't made for this world. My face was definitely paler than before and I swallowed hard.  
"Okay." I took a deep breath and tore a piece off the hem of my dress. I drizzled it on alcohol and used it to clean the wound. I didn’t know if whiskey was so suitable but we didn't have anything else and at least I wanted to feel like I wasn't harming him. I pressed the bottle into his hand and he took a quick sip from it. "Ready?"  
"Just do it, witch."  
I carefully entered the wound with my index finger. He held his breath for a moment and pressed his lips tightly together. I turned my finger slightly and finally felt the bullet. The thought of digging into the wound of another human being made me feel even more like vomiting.  
"Fuck!" Micah swore, drinking more whiskey.  
"Sorry!" With my thumb and index finger I felt the lower part of the bullet, enclosed it slightly and pulled. The projectile slowly came out and then I had it. I dropped it on the floor and stared at the wound but he wasn't bleeding more than before. I cleaned the wound again before tying a tight bandage around his shoulder with the piece of the dress. I couldn't sew it, I didn't have the tools. I really would have liked to have picked up my phone and googled this shit. "Finished."  
He looked at his bandaged shoulder and then put his bloodstained shirt back on. "Not as useless as I thought."  
"Thank you?"

#### Little Creek River  
Arthur

John rode to my right, Charles to my left. We had been riding along the river for a while and soon we had to leave the path we followed. The ranch was a bit off the river and we hadn't met any O'Driscoll yet. It was late afternoon and I felt like we were running out of time. Was Emma really under the control of our enemies? I didn't care about Micah. Dutch wanted us to bring him back too. In one piece and alive but I wanted to knock this bastard's teeth out and shut his mouth once and for all. He caused problems constantly, was unpredictable. Blackwater would have been different if he hadn't been there... I was sure about that. Micah was too impulsive, he didn't think about his plans. And I didn't understand why Dutch wanted to be surrounded by him.  
"Arthur, over there!" I looked first at Charles and then in the direction he was pointing. A man was lying on the ground about 10 meters away from us. I nodded and we got a little closer before getting off our horses. All prepared to defend ourselves. I went to the man on the ground who had been shot in the head. "There's another one here. Shot in the head.” Two dead men.  
"O'Driscolls?" John asked. I looked at the body in front of me and nodded.  
Charles spotted a pool of blood and a bloody trail behind a tree that led away from the river. "One is still alive." he called to us. A little further, another body. Killed by a targeted shot in the chest.  
John ran to the bank and found more traces. A rock was littered with a few bullet holes and a trace of blood that led to the water. "Someone went through the river."  
Charles ran a bow and wanted to return to me when he stopped. "Another one, he’s still alive!" John and I went up to him and a man with a wound in his stomach area. He pressed both hands on the wound that was bleeding continuously. He had been left to die. I knelt down next to him and pressed the barrel of my gun against his head.  
"What happened?"  
The man coughed and blood splatters hit me. I wiped it off my cheek with the back of my hand. "H-help..." he croaked.  
"Oh, I'll help you if you tell me what happened." I lowered the gun and looked at him. He kept trying to stop the bleeding. "Tell me what I want to know and I'll redeem you." He had no other option. The injury was bad and would cost him his life either way. It was in his hands whether he wanted to die with some dignity or miserable, slowly and painful.  
"That doesn't work." John grumbled next to me.  
"Help... m-me." His eyes were wide. The skin pale. He already looked like a corpse.  
"Who shot you?"  
"Van... Van der... Linde...", the words came out quiet and tortured.  
"Micah Bell?" John asked. The man moved his head, it looked like a nod.  
"Help…"  
"Was there someone with him?" I asked.  
"A..." He coughed again. His breath became shallower, there was not much time left. I patted his cheek.  
"A what? A woman?” Another kind of nod. "Blue dress?" Suddenly his whole body cramped. Everything twitched. I raised my revolver and shot him. "It has to be them."  
"Are you sure about that?" I wasn't sure. With Micah, yes. But the woman could also be a stranger. I got up and looked around. Charles had gone to the river and followed the blood trail to the water.  
"Found anything else?" I asked Charles as I reached him. John was still standing next to the body, leaning down and searching his pockets.  
"Here are two tracks. They have crossed the river. One is injured and bleeding. But not much, the bleeding is not very bad.” We both looked at the other side of the river. Either we risked it now and followed this single trail. Or we went to the ranch and convinced ourselves that Micah and this woman were no longer there.  
"We’ll follow the trail. They can’t have gotten very far without a horse.” I whistled my horse to me and swung myself into the saddle. Charles and John did the same. We rode through the river one after the other then I let Charles take the lead because he was a lot better at reading tracks than I was. He had taught me some tricks, but he still saw more than I did.  
"They went into the forest." Charles stopped his horse and indicated a footprint. "I've never seen a shoe print like this before." The prints were smaller than the others. And apparently the person was only wearing one shoe that had a very strange profile. It could only be Emma. Her clothes had been so different when we first met. She had clothes on her body that I had never seen before. The material was also foreign to me. Let alone the shoes she was wearing. White sole, white shoelaces, they reached just above the ankles and had a white star on the side with a name on it that I couldn't remember.  
We followed the trail into the forest.

#### Old hunting lodge  
Emma

I was sitting with my back to the wall, my eyes closed, trying to focus on something other than my headache. Or the thirst and the fear. Instead, I imagined myself sitting at the kitchen table with my mother. A jug of tea and two cups in front of us. In addition there was delicious, homemade apple pie while it was raining outside. We talked about trivial things; the weather, my work, about dad. I tried to recall pictures that were beautiful. Past situations to relax. Even if I got homesick. Everything was better than this here and now.  
I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. I was really feeling sick and I couldn't even go to a hospital. Or to a doctor. I couldn't even call someone and ask for help. Micah opened a can of peaches and I heard him drinking the juice. Chuckling, sighing contentedly. I looked at him. "Why did you take me with you?" I asked into the silence that surrounded us.  
"Should there be a next time, I'll leave ya there." he grumbled and stuck a peach in his mouth.  
"I don't understand you." I ignored his words. "First you leave me to die and then you save me." Not to mention the beating I had to take from Colm, without him saying a word. "Why did you..."  
"Listen, witch" he interrupted me "I saved yer damn ass. Enjoy it while you still can. I don't owe ya an explanation, darling.” Another peach disappeared without him even thinking about offering me one.  
I held out my hand. "Can I have some too?" He looked into the can, then at my hand. He threw the second, still closed one to me. I caught it and turned it. "It won't work without a can opener."  
"You have a knife." I took it in both hands and stuck it into the can. I struggled to open the lid, but I couldn't get more than a hole into it. I sighed to myself and drank the juice. Suddenly Micah snatched the can out of my hand, then the knife and started to open the can completely for me. "Here." He held it out to me and sat down again.  
"Thank you." I picked a peach and ate it. It was incredibly good. "What do we do now?"  
"We?" He threw his empty can behind him. Why did he make it so difficult for me? I didn't like being here any more than he did. I would prefer to be in this situation with anyone else, evenUncle. But we were stuck here. Both injured and yet he behaved like an asshole.  
"Goddamn." I murmured softly. "I need your help. I can't do it alone.” It was hard to admit. There was a smile on his face, then a chuckle.  
"Oh yeah. The only question is, what do I get out of it? One hand washes the other, witch. Or do you do it differently where ya come from?"  
"I have taken care of your shoulder. It's your turn."  
"I opened your can." He grinned. Like a toddler. He always needed something in return. He couldn’t be just nice to me. What had gone wrong in his life?  
"What do you want?" I finally asked with a sigh.  
"I want you to tell Dutch a lie."

***

Another hour passed before we heard the trampling of horses outside. Micah immediately grabbed his weapon, I clutched the knife and holed up in the far corner of the lodge. The noises came closer and closer. Micah looked briefly in my direction and put his index finger to his lips. Soft voices, then someone dismounted. Or more?  
"Micah?" My heart stopped when I heard the voice. Oh Arthur, I thought and was about to just storm out. But "dear" Micah was faster, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of my corner.  
"You’re gonna behave, will you?" He whispered to me and looked me straight in the eyes. It felt like he was staring straight into my soul. I nodded, I just wanted to get out of here and escape this madness. Most of all, I didn't want to be alone with this man anymore. Micah led me to the door. "In here, cowpoke!"  
"Is Emma with you?"  
"I'm here!" I exclaimed, earning an evil side look.  
"Everything okay with you?" Well, nothing was okay with me. My body needed rest, the dizziness and constant throbbing in my head drove me crazy.  
"She’s fine!" Micah dragged me in front of him. "We're coming out."  
"Slowly now, Bell!" I heard another voice, probably Charles. Arthur was not alone. I felt how tense Micah was behind me. And rightly so. He instructed me to open the door, I obeyed and we slowly stepped outside. He was still holding me protectively in front of himself. Arthur and John had their guns aimed directly at the entrance. When they recognized me, they lowered their weapons.  
"Shit." John mumbled when he saw me. Arthur looked worried for a second and I could literally see the hate in his eyes as he probably linked all my injuries to Micah. Some of them were caused by him, but I had sworn not to say anything.  
"Let her go!" Arthur took a big step forward.  
"Quiet now, cowboy. She’s just my assurance that you're not doing anything stupid. Put your guns away! "  
"First you let her go!"  
"Arthur, it's okay." I said. "He... he saved me." And that wasn't a lie. "He didn't do anything to me." There it was. The lie. In my ears my voice didn't sound very convincing, but maybe only because I knew I was lying to them. John was the first to hesitantly put his gun away. Arthur followed shortly after with a hum. He would have loved to shoot Micah.  
Micah released me. "You should thank me, Morgan, for saving your little witch from her certain death." He grinned past me. Arthur followed him with his eyes and if looks could kill Micah would be miserably dead on the spot.  
"Micah!" Charles warned.  
I stepped closer to Arthur. "Did he do anything to you?" He looked at me. I looked aside and shook my head slightly as I tried to suppress my tears. My knees trembled, my arms felt numb and I couldn't get rid my constant headache. I wanted to hug Arthur so bad and cry. I didn't care that he didn't really know me. For me, he was the only person I really felt connected to. A bond that he could not understand. For me it symbolized security and above all honesty. My lie felt like a betrayal. A betrayal of everything Arthur Morgan stood for.  
He seemed to notice my inner struggle because suddenly he put an arm around me and pulled me towards him. I buried my face against his chest. His warm hand rested on my back and I sobbed. Micah made me a rat, a snake like he was and I let it happen. I wrapped my arms around him, pressed myself tightly against him and felt his breath stop for a moment. He hadn't expected this reaction and I just imagined how overwhelmed he felt. But I needed a feeling of security.  
"Oh, come on!" Micah groaned. "We don't have time for such sentimental shit. The O'Driscolls were on our heels and they certainly won't have given up until they find us.” He went to Charles, who was already sitting on his horse and helping him up. "Come on now!"  
"He's right, Arthur." John said, who also got back onto his horse. Arthur put his arm around my shoulder and led me to his horse. A horse, again. He climbed up before me and held out his hand.  
"Don't worry." He smiled as I put my hand in his. He pulled me up like I was as nothing. I sat in front of him and held on to the saddle. Arthur reached for his reins, Charles rode ahead and behind us was John with his horse. I leaned my back against Arthur's chest and felt my body tense. I didn't trust horses, especially after my adventurous ride with Baylock. No matter how good of a rider the man behind me was. "Relax." I heard him say behind me, realizing how close he was to me. His voice was right next to my ear.  
I wiped a few tears from my face. "Easier said than done." I muttered softly, trying to control my breathing.  
"Such a shame… I was looking forward to finally kill him." I heard Arthur say a little quieter. I would have laughed but I just winced slightly.  
Sooner or later, I thought. "Thank you."  
"Hm?"  
"Thank you for looking for me."  
"You don't just have to thank me, Miss." I knew that. I had to thank Charles and John too, maybe even Micah, because without him I would’ve never escaped. 

***

The closer we got to camp, the more nervous I became. But not just me. Micah looked at me now and then, making eye contact, but I stared stubbornly at the horse's neck. First because I couldn't stand the look on his face, but also because I felt really sick. I tried to control myself so as not to vomit on the animal's back. I kept my eyes closed for a few seconds, but I was afraid to fall down. "We’re almost home." I heard Arthur say.  
I raised my head. Bill already greeted us, who was guarding the camp. The voices of the others grew louder, I could smell the campfire mixed with the smell of horses and Pearson's stew. My hands tightened on the saddle when I saw Dutch walking out of his tent. "Is... is Dutch angry?" I whispered softly.  
"Not about you." Not yet, I thought. But that would change soon. Arthur stopped his horse and got off first, he helped me get down and I thought I was going to throw up. I put my hands on my stomach, but nothing happened. As Arthur released the snaffle from his horse, Micah approached me.  
"Showtime, witch." he whispered to me. "I'm sure you won't disappoint me, huh?" I shook my head, the lump getting thicker and thicker. Micah moved away from me again and I followed.  
"What happened?" Dutch asked immediately when we hadn't quite reached him. Arthur followed us and walked alongside me. Micah lifted his hands slightly and smiled as charmingly as he could.  
"The witch went nuts, Dutch." Dutch looked like he was about to stomp Micah into the ground.  
"What do you mean by that?"  
"He saved her." Arthur spoke up and it was obviously difficult for him. But it was probably much, much more difficult for me.  
"What happened, Miss Hunter?" Dutch looked at me again with that stern, fatherly look.  
"I... um..."  
"I said she will only cause problems!" Micah said.  
"Shut up." Arthur.  
"Can someone please explain to me what happened!"  
I ran a few uncertain steps to the side and vomited. And I didn't know if it was the likely concussion or my guilty conscience that haunted me. But it was enough to silence everyone. I held my hair back with one hand and braced myself on one knee with the other. Coughing, I finished my little performance and slowly sat up. "Fuck..." I swore before feeling a careful touch on my back.  
"Gentlemen, I think Miss Hunter needs to rest before she can tell us what happened." It was Susan Grimshaw's voice. She patted my back lightly. "Come on girl. You have to lie down. "  
"But..."  
"Dutch, look at her!" She said sternly. "Anything you need to discuss with her needs to wait until tomorrow.” She was shaking her head and led me away from the small group of men who were watching us. She led me to the tent that the women shared.  
Tilly came over. "Oh holy... what happened to you?"  
"Miss Jackson, get some water." Tilly nodded and hurried off.  
"Here, lie down." Susan helped me sit down. I slowly leaned back. Everything was still spinning. "Tomorrow you’ll feel better." The usual severity had left her words. She was looking rather motherly at me and above all concerned.  
"Thank you..."  
"Don’t. We are a family and help each other." She brushed a few strands of hair from my face. "And you need your energy for tomorrow." Tilly returned and handed Susan a mug. She filled it with water, I lifted my head slightly and she helped me drink. "A cloth, Miss Jackson."  
"You look terrible." Tilly sat next to me, moistened the cloth and used it to wipe the dried blood off my face. "But we’ll take care of you." She smiled at me.  
"The dress... it... I’m sorry..."  
She waved it off. "It's just a dress."  
"Are you taking care of her?" Susan put the mug down and Tilly nodded. "Take a rest. I will make sure that the men leave will you alone.” And with that, she left.  
Meanwhile, Tilly washed the cloth. "I am glad that you’re back. Try to sleep a little, okay? I'm here if you need anything. "  
"Thank you." I closed my tired eyes and lost myself in the dark.


End file.
